Journey
by Deandra
Summary: Spoiled noblewomen were not on Eomer’s agenda. Not until he made plain his disdain did Lothiriel of Dol Amroth truly examine her life and where it was headed. This is the story of her journey.
1. Chapter 1

**_NOTE: IF YOU READ THIS STORY BEFORE 9/7/07, THIS IS THE NEW REVISED VERSION I SAID I WAS WORKING ON. _**

**_A/N: Okay, a couple of things you should know. After writing the very different Eomer that I did in "Rage", I got a notion for doing an extreme variation on my usual Lothiriel also. Initially, it looked like it would be rather humorous, and there are parts that are, but it turned a bit more serious than anticipated (yes, tissue alert, for some of the chapters!). This is largely Lothiriel's story and her 'journey', so even though it will eventually have her with Eomer as per Tolkien's version of things, it takes awhile getting there. You'll just have to be patient for the romance (it's not the bulk of the story); this is the natural progression of the story. _**

**_Sorry about the uneven length of chapters, but that was the best I could do in breaking at reasonable points within the story. There's nothing less than 4 pages, but two are about 7 pages. _**

**Journey **

**Chapter 1 **

**(May, 3019 III, Minas Tirith) **

"What about Eomer and Lothiriel?" Faramir suggested, taking a sip of wine and trying to conceal a grin.

Amrothos gave a snort. "Now _that_ would be an interesting match, to say the least! I cannot picture it though."

"Why not?" Eowyn asked bluntly. "Is there something wrong with your sister?"

"Eowyn," Eomer said warningly, not wanting to offend the men of Dol Amroth. They were unused to Rohirric candor.

"What? I meant no offense. But there is little question that women find you attractive, brother. Surely they are not suggesting she would not also."

Eomer scowled. "Ignore my sister. She exaggerates," he told the others, embarrassed at being the focal point of this conversation. What had begun as a friendly get-together of soon-to-be-relations, had turned into an opportunity to speculate on possible marital pairings now that the War was ended. Erchirion was safe as he already had a lady in mind, only waiting for their betrothal if he survived battle. While Amrothos had been targeted briefly, his reputation for flirtatious encounters, without serious motive, did not inspire the belief that he was yet ready to pursue matrimony. But Eomer…Eomer would soon be officially named King of Rohan, and that seemed to make him the most in want of a wife, whatever he might have to say on the matter.

Erchirion chuckled. "I think not, Eomer! Remember, we have _seen_ how the ladies of Minas Tirith eye you appreciatively! You could have your pick of the lot, without a doubt. However, I must agree with Amrothos. I cannot see you with Lothiriel. She is…_not_ your type, my friend."

Eowyn's eyes narrowed. "What exactly does that mean? Are you saying Eomer would not find her agreeable, or the reverse?"

Faramir could tell this discussion might get a bit heated if it continued and, since he had started it, he hastened to explain, "It is nothing against Eomer, I assure you, my lady, nor even against my worthy cousin. But Lothiriel is the only daughter in a family of men, and raised without a mother's tempering hand. She has rich tastes, and is very prim and proper, not to mention a bit cosseted. I do not think she would find someone so straightforward and 'soldierly' as your brother to be to her taste. She goes more for the…softer noblemen of the realm. And likely Eomer would find her a bit too shallow and weak for her to appeal to him. They are just…different. That is all."

Eowyn seemed appeased by the explanation, and Eomer merely looked relieved that the conversation might come to an end, at least with regards to him. True, he would marry one day; he wanted to, and now that he was king it was virtually imperative, but he had never cared much for matchmaking. The description of the young lady had _not_ particularly excited his anticipation for meeting her, but then he had found few noblewomen, especially in Gondor, to be what he envisioned in a wife. Some of them were beautiful to be sure, and most were educated, but they had little substance. He could not see them withstanding a harsh winter in the north, or lending a hand in sewing, tending the sick or personally rearing their children. Gondorians tended to be a soft lot, enjoying their comforts above all else. They had servants raise their children while they sat around doing little of consequence. His wife would work, and work hard, standing at his side as queen. The running of Meduseld was no simple matter, and she would be responsible for that, along with a great deal more. No, he had best seek a wife in his homeland. There was surely someone there who would suit.

xxxxx **(August, 3019 III, Edoras) **

Lothiriel slowly opened her eyes, wondering what was out of place. Then she realized there was no sound of gulls crying on the morning air to awaken her. She had missed that, for the entire journey, actually, but here at Meduseld it seemed even more pronounced. On the road, there had always been camp sounds, so it had almost seemed as though the gulls were merely muffled by other noises, but this silence was much deeper, and a bit disconcerting.

Sitting up, she yawned as she reached for her robe. Moving to the window, she drew back the curtains and stared out at the bright sunlit plain below her and the mountains that fringed it. For a moment, she stood silently, not really thinking of anything in particular, and not fully awake. Then it dawned on her how high the sun was in the sky. _It must be very late in the morning; why had no one wakened her?_

Before she could turn from the window, there was a knock at the door and the same nervous girl from the day before entered when summoned. Bobbing a curtsy, the girl stammered, "My lady…would you like me to fetch you some breakfast?"

Lothiriel nodded. "Toast and tea would be lovely, with a bit of honey. But draw me a bath before you go."

The girl stared wide-eyed and fearful at her, her mouth working but no words coming out. "Is something the matter?" Lothiriel asked pointedly and the girl looked even more frightened.

"I…I will fetch Lady Eowyn!" she squeaked, and then bolted out the door before Lothiriel could question why it was necessary to bother Eowyn in order to get a bath and food at this place.

Lothiriel paced the small chamber in annoyance as she waited for the servant to return. _Why had she let her father convince her not to bring her own maid? Servants of Dol Amroth would not have had such difficulty complying with a simple request of a guest!_ But her father had insisted that housing would be tight at Edoras for the funeral, with all the guests attending, and servants would just add to the burden.

A knock at the door, this one firmer than the servant's had been, pulled Lothiriel from her thoughts. "Come in," she called impatiently. Perhaps Eowyn could sort this out quickly so she could get on with her day.

As she had expected it was Eowyn, though she could not quite make out the woman's expression. It seemed a cross between annoyance and stiff politeness. Before Lothiriel could speak, to plead her case in needing a more capable servant, Eowyn firmly addressed her. "Lothiriel, Eanswith has told me you are requesting a bath."

An elegant eyebrow rose. _Why should such a thing draw so much attention?_ "Yes. Is there a _problem_ with my taking a bath? It is part of my daily routine. I do not leave my room of a morning until I am properly washed." Without realizing it, Lothiriel's tone had become condescending as she explained the situation, as if to a small child.

Eowyn's expression tightened more. "That is all very well in Gondor, or even in Dol Amroth, but we do not have the facilities here that you enjoy. Any water used in a bath must be heated over fires, and carried to the person's room to fill the wash tub. It is a slow and laborious process, not to mention that it takes a great deal of wood to heat the fires – a resource which is sadly in short supply in Rohan of late. The best we may offer you is a bath no more than once a week. You were able to wash last night after your travel, but it is not possible to draw a bath for you daily," Eowyn firmly stated, her eyes daring Lothiriel to challenge her.

Only just barely did Lothiriel keep her jaw from dropping. _What sort of barbaric place was this! No hot bath of a morning? Surely they could not be…but, no, Eowyn was quite serious._

Mustering every bit of dignity she possessed, Lothiriel carefully responded, "Forgive me. I did not understand the circumstances. I will make do with a bit of wash water in a basin, if that is not too much trouble."

Turning to Eanswith, who was essentially hiding outside the door, Eowyn instructed, "Fetch Lady Lothiriel some hot wash water and a drying cloth, and see to her breakfast." The girl nodded and bolted away down the hall.

"Is…is it usual for people of Meduseld to rise so late in the morning?" Lothiriel asked, curious that she had not been awakened.

Eowyn bit back a grin. Truth was, she had let Lothiriel sleep-in, just to avoid having to spend any more time with her than necessary, but of course she could not say so. "I assumed you would be weary after the long ride from Minas Tirith. I thought you would want to catch up on your rest now that you had a bed available to you."

_A bed? Was that what they called that thing?_ Lothiriel wasn't sure it was much better than sleeping with furs on the ground, but she smiled in response. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Lady Eowyn. It is most appreciated." Turning away before her features belied her words, she asked, "What is on the schedule for today? I should like to dress appropriately."

Eowyn raised an eyebrow in surprise, but informed the girl, "There is nothing special you need concern yourself with. A plain day dress will suit, and a sturdy pair of boots in case you wish to walk about the town."

Lothiriel choked down her reaction to this disinterested approach to wearing apparel. _A plain day dress? She did not own such a thing! Why on earth would nobility require anything of that nature?_ Schooling her expression, she turned, and apologetically said, "I will see what I can find in my wardrobe. I am not sure my usual dresses are quite what you describe."

Eowyn gave a curt nod of the head. "Then I will see you later in the Golden Hall. Eanswith knows where to find me if you have any further questions."

She hastily exited the room before she said more than was wise. Eowyn would much have preferred that Imrahil leave his spoiled, pampered daughter at home! She was not looking forward to dealing with the girl's airs for the duration of their visit. It was clear Eomer intended to be no help in the matter. Even without the discussion they'd had with Lothiriel's brothers and cousin about her qualities, once Eomer had clapped eyes on the girl and seen for himself the sort of person she was, he had quickly begun avoiding her at every opportunity. As the lady of Meduseld, at least until her marriage, it fell to Eowyn to deal with this persnickety creature until they could pack her off home. It was a very great pity she was not more like the rest of her family, whom Eowyn and Eomer both liked immensely.

xx

To Eowyn's chagrin, her little talk with Lothiriel had not entirely impressed on the girl how different Edoras was from Minas Tirith or her own homeland. The moment she turned up in the hall, more than an hour later – and Eowyn could not imagine why it would take anyone so long to dress and eat a bit of food – she began looking to be entertained. Eowyn truly did not have time to deal with her, considering all she needed to do in preparation for Theoden's memorial service and seeing to their other guests, so she drafted the wives of Gamling and Elfhelm to show the woman about town, and get rid of her for a time.

If Eowyn thought that would be a good solution, she was mistaken. They were gone less than two hours, and the expressions on her kinswomen's faces spoke volumes about what they had endured. Once Lothiriel retired to her room "to rest" after her exertions, the two readily confided to Eowyn what had happened. Apparently the young lady had expected numerous shops filled with rich clothing and fine jewels for her to spend hours perusing, and leisurely making new purchases. Instead, she had found shops containing items of a more practical nature – day dresses, household necessities and the like. While there was some jewelry to be had, along with a bit of finery for the nobility to use on more formal occasions, the selection had clearly been wanting in the young woman's eyes, and she quickly lost interest in seeing more of the town. It was evident this was going to be a long and tedious sojourn with the lady from Dol Amroth!

xx

A dance was scheduled for that evening, a simple enough way to entertain the guests without a great deal of effort. Lothiriel had remained in her room, preferring to read since there seemed little of interest around this place to occupy her otherwise.

She still would very much have liked a leisurely bath in grooming for the festivities of the evening, but Eowyn had made it clear that was not an option. Even so, she spent considerable time with her washing and preparation, and doused herself well with her stock of pleasant-smelling potions. She might be forced to endure these primitive conditions, but she did not intend to lower herself to that standard any more than was absolutely necessary. Drawing her finest gown from the wardrobe, she had Eanswith assist her in dressing, and then settled on the bench in front the looking glass.

"Would you like me to braid your hair for you, my lady?" Eanswith inquired timidly, thoroughly intimidated by this fine lady sitting before her.

Eyeing her reflection with a practiced gaze, Lothiriel instructed, "No, I shall wear my hair up tonight, Eanswith. Give me something elegant, but soft." _A braid – certainly not! She would never dream of wearing such a common style!_

Eanswith shivered with fear, staring at her head in alarm. At length, she stammered, "I…I do not know how to do that, my lady!" Glancing at the servant's reflection in the looking glass, Lothiriel saw she was on the verge of tears.

"Oh, very well! I suppose I can leave it loose about my shoulders. I hope it will not be too warm in the hall," Lothiriel relented, though making no effort to conceal her displeasure. Seeing Eanswith was still struggling not to weep, she became more annoyed and decided to remove the girl from her presence. "That is all. I will manage from here. You may go."

The servant needed no further encouragement and virtually bolted from the room. _Never again!_ Lothiriel vowed to herself. Never again would she allow her father to drag her to a backwater place such as this without even the essentials of life to be had.

xx

The next few days were just as Eowyn feared, and there did not seem to be anything Lothiriel found appealing about Edoras. She plainly thought she ought to be entertained in sumptuous fashion, despite repeated references to the deprivations that Rohan was suffering as a result of the War. Even when there were activities planned for the funeral guests, she tended to eye them with an air of disdain. At first the men of Edoras' nobility had been eager to squire the young lady on the dance floor, for she was most attractive, but her haughty behavior and superior attitude soon put them off, and more often than not Lothiriel found herself on the sidelines watching others. Eowyn had tried pressing Eomer to dance with her, at least occasionally, to relieve the girl's boredom and keep her amused, but he was clearly no more desirous than the other men to be around her, regardless of any sense of obligation he might be feeling. At best, he would suffer it only once a night and then considered his duty discharged. The girl's only hope was to dance with her family members.

At least for the funeral service, Lothiriel managed to behave in a more seemly manner, and Eowyn was far too distracted by her own emotions to give the girl much thought. Added to that was the joy of Eowyn's trothplighting to Faramir afterwards, and in her bliss she put Lothiriel entirely out of her mind. Somewhat to her chagrin, however, she learned that Eomer had invited Imrahil and his family to tarry longer than most of the funeral guests. It was not that Eomer particularly wished one member of the family to remain, but he was enjoying the company of Imrahil and his sons, and the older Prince was proving a valuable resource to Eomer in setting affairs in order in Rohan. Reluctantly, Eowyn accepted that she would have to suffer Lady Lothiriel's presence a bit longer.

xxxxx

Eomer was not in the best of moods. He would much have preferred making this trip to Aldburg without Lady Lothiriel along, but she had insisted on coming. He had pointed out to her that he merely needed to conduct a bit of business, and they would not be there long, but she seemed to think it might be more exciting than Edoras. As it was, she barely concealed her boredom with the way of life in Rohan. The shops were a great disappointment, both in quality and content, there were not enough of the activities in which she liked to engage, and she clearly found the company wanting. Eowyn was a bit at her wit's end trying to keep the young lady entertained, and Eomer was just glad the task did not fall to him – usually. Eowyn had cleverly managed to dodge journeying with them to Aldburg, leaving him to contend with Lothiriel on his own. Not unexpectedly, she had found Aldburg no more to her taste than Edoras was, and she did not hesitate to make her dissatisfaction known.

While Eomer had the greatest respect for her father and brothers, the lady was…trying. She was exactly as Faramir had described her to them, though he had half believed she would not be quite so bad as indicated. Whereas Imrahil and his sons, though nobles of the highest class, did not object to hard work or dirt on their hands or clothes, Lothiriel avoided even the appearance of untidiness. She would do well to follow her family's example in such things and he would think far better of her. In his opinion, she was little use as anything more than an ornament on some nobleman's arm!

The sky which had been darkening for almost an hour, matching his frame of mind perfectly, now grew appreciably worse, and he knew the signs. So did Eothain, who rode up alongside him just then. "Should we turn back?" his captain asked.

Eomer sighed. They were about equal distance from both Aldburg and Edoras. "No, we might as well press on. There is nothing to be gained by returning." Indeed, he could think of much to be avoided about returning. At least in Edoras, he could hand Lothiriel back over to her family and his sister. If they went to Aldburg to wait out the weather, he would be forced to deal with her.

The skies opened up just then, and the men hunkered into their cloaks, trying to stay as dry and comfortable as they could, though they knew they would be soaked in short order. After another hour, they were forced to a stop by the wind, the rain and the mud. It had rained off and on for two days prior to this, so the roadbed was already muddy, but this downpour overtaxed its ability to recover, and it had become a virtual swamp.

Several men were down from their horses examining the carriage wheels, thickly coated with heavy mud, and Eomer rode back to join them. Noticing his approach, one looked up and shook his head meaningfully at the king. The carriage was not going any further in this muck.

"What is nearby?" Eomer asked, somewhat rhetorically as he was already mentally considering their options himself, as familiar with this land as any of the others.

"There is a sizeable cave not too distant. We could make it there on horseback," Eothain observed.

That thought had already occurred to Eomer, also, as likely their best option, and he nodded. With another sigh, he nudged Firefoot closer to the carriage and drew back the window covering. A small shriek came from within. "Do not open that! It is already damp enough in here!" Lothiriel instructed, but he ignored her objections.

"It will get even damper, my lady. This storm is not going to ease any time soon. We must seek shelter elsewhere."

She apparently hadn't quite grasped his meaning. "I thought you said there were no inns along the road," she replied petulantly.

"There are not, but there is a cave fairly close. We will use that," Eomer explained, with a touch of impatience in his voice.

"A cave!" she exclaimed, but then seemed to realize she had little alternative but to do as the king decided. "Oh, very well. If we must. Drive on."

Eomer bit back a grin. He was going to take rather perverse pleasure in breaking the rest of the news to her. "We will not be _driving_ anywhere. The carriage is mired in the mud and the horses can pull it no further. We will have to ride."

She clearly was not pleased. "But I will be soaked!" she protested.

"Then you will join the rest of us in that state," Eomer answered pointedly.

Seeing she could not win this argument, she heaved a beleaguered sigh. "Very well, saddle a horse for me. I suppose I must ride astride as we did not bring my sidesaddle."

"We did not bring _any_ extra saddles, my lady. You will have to ride with me on Firefoot," Eomer told her. While he was enjoying tormenting her, he was not thrilled at the prospect of putting up with her in close proximity. He had to remind himself it would not take long to reach the cave.

"Ride with you! That would be improper!" she retorted, aghast.

"Perhaps so, but it is your only choice – unless of course you wish to stay here, alone, in the carriage, while the rest of us retire to the cave." He could not help thinking that idea had a certain appeal to it.

For several moments, Lothiriel stared at him in horror, and he was just going to tell her to hurry up and choose when she spoke again. Apparently she had realized to whom she was speaking, and her innate sense of protocol demanded she stop being so rude to the King of Rohan. He might be barbaric in her eyes, but he was still a king, and good friends with both King Elessar and her own father. Swallowing hard, she answered tightly. "If you think it best, my lord."

Eomer knew she was not pleased, but he was too wet and cold to much care. "Wrap your cloak around you and cover your head, but keep your legs free. I will move in closer and lift you into the saddle so you do not need to step down into the mud."

Lothiriel's jaw tightened, but she did as he'd told her, gasping slightly when his arm snaked around her waist, and had her snug in the saddle with him almost before she could register his movement.

The next few hours were disagreeable to all parties. The cave was reached and they settled in for the duration. Most of the men readily knew they would be here until the next day; despite their sudden arrival, such storms as this did not blow themselves out quickly. The lady in their midst made her displeasure with the accommodations known to all, though thankfully she held her tongue. Had she not, Eomer felt he would have been hard pressed to be civil to her.

The men had been able to find some shrubs that were sheltered under outcroppings of rocks, providing some dry fodder for a fire while they used the warmth to dry out damper wood for later use. Even so, the cave was chill and uncomfortable. Given a choice, the men and Lothiriel would have segregated themselves as far apart as they could but, with the single fire, that was not possible, and there was largely a tension-filled silence over the group. The men made a few murmured comments among themselves, but no one attempted conversation with the lady.

Once a meager meal had been eaten, most of the men settled down to get what rest they could, but Lothiriel remained hunched by the fire, completely miserable. Periodically, someone would approach and put more fuel on the fire, but they did not attempt to speak to her and she made no such effort either.

It was several hours later, and Lothiriel had barely moved. Earlier, she had gotten up and paced the chamber in agitation, both to warm up and ease her stiffened joints, but for more than an hour she had stayed close to the fire, seeking every bit of warmth it would provide. Even so, she was used to the warmer clime of the South and the chill was cutting through her like a knife, giving rise to shivers that were becoming almost continuous.

It startled her when a cloak dropped around her shoulders, and she let out a gasp, jerking around to see who was there. Eomer's tread was so light, she had not heard him approaching. "I am sorry," Eomer told her. "I did not mean to alarm you. You looked cold."

"I…I am. Thank you," she replied, her heart still pounding.

He started to turn away, but she asked, holding out a bit of the cloak, "Is this yours? Do you not need it yourself?"

He shrugged. "I am used to the cold. I will manage without it. You need it more."

"Thank you," she said again, more softly, amazed at the kind action in the face of her behavior. She had been far from appreciative of anything he had done since they left the carriage on the road; she had not expected this. Even more puzzling was that the king himself did it rather than ordering it of one of his men. This man did not stand on ceremony, or seem to consider himself above his companions. Indeed, most of them seemed to consider him quite amiable; in her differing opinion, she was quite alone.

He was still standing there, and when she glanced up at him, just as he was starting to retreat across the cave, she caught a look of distaste on his face. "You are welcome," he murmured, with little conviction.

Before he had taken more than a few steps, she could not resist saying more. "You do not like me, do you?" she asked with quiet challenge, but a tiny hint of something else he couldn't quite identify. In Gondor she was admired by most people; why should these Rohirrim think differently?

Eomer considered his response, then said, "About as much as you like me." An evasive answer, but at least he had been honest. He did not wish to insult Imrahil's daughter, but neither could he pretend to find her agreeable, in any sense. Even her beauty, for which she was apparently rather famed, had too much of a studied look to it for his tastes. Women did not need all that paint upon their faces; the wind and sun could readily provide them with a healthy, attractive glow. Her clothing, likewise, was excessive. The material was fine to be sure, as were the jewels, but a handsome woman did not require such an overabundance of adornment. It detracted rather than added to her beauty.

"Why not?" she persisted, unwilling to let it go. She had been able to win over detractors before this; he should be no different. All she needed to know was what he found objectionable, and then persuade him why he should not think that way.

"Do you truly wish to know or is the question only idle conversation?" he queried, to the point where he _wanted_ to tell her what he thought of her.

"You may be honest," she generously told him, fully expecting he could have little substantial quarrel with anything about her.

"You are overly pampered and spoiled, and you see nothing more than your comfortable little world. The War almost destroyed the race of Men, and yet you concern yourself with only those things that are frivolous and of no particular consequence," he told her bluntly, and waited for the outraged rebuttal he expected would come.

"Just because my life was not so touched by the War is not my fault and, besides, the War is ended now. Why must we dwell on it endlessly?" she demanded. "Is it so wrong for me to have been raised to a different way of life?" Her chin tilted defiantly.

"No," he acknowledged, giving a sigh as he sat down beside her, "but it _is_ wrong for you to look with disdain on the way of life of others. _Our_ way of life has made us what we are – strong and fierce, dependable and true – and _that_ is who rode to the rescue of Gondor, to save your people so that you might _continue_ to live _your_ way of life. In Rohan we yet dwell on the War because it is not over for us. There is still evil in our land that must be subdued. There is still the devastation they left behind them. My people will be fortunate if they can survive the winter to enjoy _any_ way of life."

His words were like a slap in the face. She was startled by his eloquence, not thinking him capable of such, but more than that, she was stunned by the truth in what he said. She had been bemoaning the lack of luxuries to which she was accustomed, but these people were struggling to get through each day with sufficient to their needs. And, for them, there was no end in sight. She would soon return home to an excess of comfort and convenience. What right had she to think herself better than him or his people? It was not beneath King Elessar or her father to value the Rohirrim, and she had been incredibly short-sighted and petty toward them and the problems they faced. Without her awareness, a tear trickled down her cheek as she turned away from him in embarrassment.

Eomer had noticed the tear though, and resented that it made him feel guilty. At length, he told her softly, "I am sorry. I did not intend to speak so harshly to you."

There was nothing but silence as she did not respond, nor turn to look at him. Finally, he stood and suggested gently, "Try to sleep if you can. With any luck, we can be on our way come morning." For several moments, he gazed down on her, but when she did not acknowledge him, he moved away.

It was some time, after he had settled against the cave wall himself, before she finally laid down on part of the cloaks that were around her, but instead of sleeping she stared into the flickering firelight. _How had she become so absorbed with herself, and unable to see those around her with clear sight? Life was not all dancing and new dresses, as she made it out to be. He was perfectly right – many of his people had died, making her home safe. He had lost virtually every member of his family, except for his sister, and for a time he had feared her lost as well. What had she suffered? Worry over her father and brothers returning safely, which they had? The loss of a cousin she had not known all that well, and an Uncle she had little cared for?_ Until this moment she had never truly looked at herself, or seen herself as others might. Now that she did, she was not sure she liked what she saw any better than they did.

Her father had not taught her to be so vain and self-centered, though perhaps he had overindulged her. Her brothers were all useful members of their society, and well respected by noble and common alike. She doubted very much the same was true of the the Prince's daughter. Certainly the nobles, who were exactly like her, thought most highly of her, but what did their opinion matter? Now that she thought about it, she had even seen a look on King Elessar's face that suggested he found her behavior displeasing and unpleasant. More tears fell then as she sorrowed for what she had become, and that was how she eventually fell asleep.

Against the wall, Eomer watched her through half-closed eyes. He had not thought his words would matter to her, but now, seeing her silently weeping, he wondered if perhaps they had. Certainly he had not set out to wound her; he had only spoken the truth, but if not his words then something had definitely affected her. He sighed, closing his eyes completely, and drawing his shared portion of Eothain's cloak higher over him. On the morrow he would apologize for causing her distress. He did not like to think he had made a woman cry.

xxxxx

Less than a sennight after they returned to Edoras, it was time for Imrahil to get back to his own realm. He had been gone too long, and he felt Eomer had things well enough in hand so as not to need so much guidance as before. Reluctant farewells were said below the steps of Meduseld, and Eomer and Eowyn watched their friends making their way slowly down the hill toward the city gates.

After several minutes, Eowyn commented, "Did Lothiriel seem _changed_ to you, brother?"

Ever since the party had come back from Aldburg, Lothiriel had been somewhat subdued, and for a time Eowyn had thought she might be coming down with an illness after being caught out in the storm. After awhile, it was clear she was healthy, but she was not nearly so demanding as before, and she kept quiet the bulk of the time. Eowyn had even seen her family casting concerned eyes upon her a time or two, but the young lady gave no indication of what might be troubling her.

Eomer shrugged indifferently. "I did not particularly notice," he answered. "I am just glad to have her gone, though it means her family left also. Besides, her silence was far more pleasing than anything she said."

Even as he spoke the words, which caused Eowyn to raise an eyebrow at him, he felt a twinge of…uncertainty. The truth was, he had noticed the girl's changed demeanor after their return from Aldburg. The ride had been made largely in silence, and she had sat hunched stiffly in front of him most of the way. Despite his offered apology, she had seemed disinclined to converse with him. In other circumstances, he would have counted himself fortunate, but it made him uneasy that she still seemed upset by his remarks. Still, he thought defensively, he had said nothing that wasn't perfectly true – and that the girl very much _needed_ to hear from someone. She would do well to look beyond the end of her nose and see that others in the world were not so privileged as she; many did not even have the necessities of life. No, he refused to feel guilty. What he had said to her was for the best.

Turning, he went back up the steps to Meduseld. Lothiriel of Dol Amroth was just an unpleasant memory, and until the fall and Eowyn's wedding, when he would be forced to see her again, he intended to give her no more thought.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: For those of you new to my writing, "complete" in the story line means that the story is completely written, though it may not yet all be posted. I usually tell you how many chapters to expect (in this case it is 6). And, unless ffn gives me trouble, I usually post a chapter a day on my stories. I don't delay posting in order to get more reviews._**

**Chapter 2** **(early Sep, 3019 III, Dol Amroth)**

Imrahil stared at his daughter in confusion. "You wish to do what, my dear?"

"I…I would like to work in the Houses of Healing so I may learn something of the healer's art, and be useful in our society," Lothiriel reiterated, trying not to let her nervousness show, or her determination falter. She had decided, upon returning to Dol Amroth, that she wanted to make some changes to her life. To that end, she had considered possible acceptable ways to contribute and this seemed the most appropriate. She was a bit hesitant about it, as she had never been especially good in a sick room, but she could at least attempt it – if her father gave his permission, that is.

Imrahil still looked puzzled, but as he had long been hoping his daughter would mature, and prove herself more valuable than just as a hostess for him, with a pleasing face and charming manner, he could hardly raise strong objections. Still, this desire to be of service was unexpected, and he was not entirely certain her choice of activity was the best for her. But, if that was what she wanted, he would allow her to attempt it. Nodding, he told her, "Very well, my dear. If that is what you wish. I will send to the Warden and make the arrangements."

That settled, the next task was for Lothiriel to acquire some clothing appropriate to such endeavors. It took some time to convince her favorite dressmaker that she truly wished her to make up dresses according to the design she had sketched out, and using the more practical cloth she had indicated. The dresses were patterned after those she had seen Eowyn and others wear in Rohan, and were completely unlike her usual attire. Obviously confused by the request, the dressmaker finally agreed to it.

Imrahil did not tell his daughter that the Warden had been less than enthusiastic about the prospect of having Lothiriel work at the Houses. It was evident the man had heard much of the girl, and was suspicious of this sudden interest in healing, as well as her ability and willingness to actually do some work. Still, his sovereign wished it, so he would endure. Likely the girl would give up within a sennight and they would not be troubled further by her.

xx

Lothiriel gazed at the exposed laceration with distaste, feeling a bit queasy. "My lady? A bandage, if you please," the Healer repeated more insistently.

Pulling her eyes away from the wound, she swallowed hard and reached for one of the bandages on the tray she held, offering it to the Healer. He laid it nearby as he continued cleaning the injury. The man had hurt himself several days ago, but attempted to treat himself. Now the wound had festered, and a greenish pus was being extruded from it.

Lothiriel tried turning her eyes away, focusing on the window nearby. The room had grown suddenly warm and close, and her head was swimming slightly from it. A moment later, her legs buckled and she went down in a heap, the tray clattering on the stone floor and the bandages scattering. The Healer's aide gave a gasp, but was too occupied to go to her assistance. The Healer glanced behind him at the fallen girl and sighed; at least she was out of the way for the time being. "We will deal with her in a moment. Let us finish here first," he quietly instructed.

Before they finished bandaging the leg, Lothiriel was stirring and slowly sat up, looking disoriented and confused. Then, as she realized what must have happened, she blushed pink with embarrassment. She carefully pushed herself to her feet, and headed for the door to get some fresh air.

The Warden found her a short while later in the herb garden, sitting on a bench and twisting a sodden handkerchief. She scrubbed hastily at her face when she noticed his approach, and stood to meet him. He waved her back down and took a spot next to her. Choosing his words carefully, he observed, "My lady, I am not sure the Houses is the best place for you."

More tears trickled down Lothiriel's cheeks, against her wishes, and she blurted out, "But I do so want to help!"

He ducked his head to hide a grin, but in truth, she had been doing her best. She had not balked at any of the tasks she had been given, no matter how mundane or unsavory. Indeed, she had even shown an aptitude for gardening, and the herb garden was flourishing under her hand. It had surprised him just how much effort she was putting into it, and he had actually expected her to give up long before this. Her desire to be of service seemed in earnest, however. Perhaps a redirection of her energies was in order.

"There are other ways you may help than in the Houses, my lady. Since the War, the orphanages of Gondor have been inundated with homeless children. Perhaps you would find that work more palatable, and you could offer a great service in seeing these children provided for at this distressing time in their young lives," he suggested.

Dol Amroth had not been as affected as many other areas, so their orphanage was considerably smaller than places such as Minas Tirith. Even so, the patronage of a noblewoman would certainly help their cause in providing materially for the orphans. Lothiriel sat considering this possibility a moment, and then nodded. "Perhaps you are right. Fainting at the sight of a wound is not a practical way for being of use. I…I thank you for your patience with me."

He smiled kindly at the girl and stood, offering her a hand up. "On the contrary, you have worked hard. It is a shame you do not have the constitution for this work – not all do – but you gave it a good effort. Thank you for considering us."

Lothiriel shyly returned the smile, pleased with the approbation, though not entirely sure she deserved it. Making beds, rolling bandages and carrying trays had not seemed very helpful, but she supposed someone had to do it. Perhaps it had freed another person to do something of greater significance.

"Go and see the Matron at the orphanage. I am sure she will be delighted to have you assist her there," he encouraged, and she nodded, slowly removing her apron. He extended a hand to take it from her, and smiled again. "Good luck in your endeavors, my lady."

"Thank you, and thank you also for your wise counsel," she said, with a nod of her head.

She watched him return inside and then determinedly turned toward the exit. The day was far spent; she would rest and show up early at the orphanage, ready to work. She _would_ find something valuable to do with her time.

Imrahil refrained from commenting when Lothiriel explained over supper the change in her plans. Erchirion and Elphir exchanged amused glances, not at all sure this urge to be useful would not eventually pass. They were still not clear what had set their sister on this course, but something in Rohan had seemingly made her realize her vacuous existence for what it was. While they hoped it would stay with her going forward, they did not have a great deal of confidence that it might be so. She had lasted at the Houses for less than a fortnight.

That evening, Lothiriel considered her time at the Houses. While she had dressed plainly, her hair was still intricately styled, and the workers and Healers had addressed her by her title, as was her due. She could not help but think those details had continued to set her apart as she worked there, and though she had worked hard and done her best, she had never felt completely accepted in their midst.

She had seen her father and brothers going among the soldiers or merchants, and being greeted far more cordially. There was an informality they managed to achieve without losing anyone's respect for their status as royalty. Perhaps people did not need to constantly be reminded of a person's noble birth, and less acute awareness might do more to foster affable relations with the working class. She had noticed that after Eomer lent her his cloak in the cave, one of his men had unhesitatingly shared his own with the king. There was no fuss about the matter, and it was not sacrificed to the loss of the man's own comfort. The two had simply silently agreed to share, regardless of their respective stations.

Gazing into her looking glass, Lothiriel pursed her lips. Perhaps a less studied style of wearing her hair would be more appropriate, and surely she could find something that was both appealing to the eye as well as simple. She bit her lip, then firmly breathed out in a decisive manner. And she would dispense with her title while she was working – at the orphanage she would merely be called Lothiriel.

That decided, she smiled at her reflection and turned her attention to preparing for bed, eagerly looking forward to the new day coming.

xx

The Matron was, to say the least, very surprised when Lothiriel turned up in her office the next morning, bright and early. She listened silently as the girl expressed her wish to be of service, and the Warden's recommendation that she see if the orphanage could make use of her. When at last Lothiriel concluded her pitch, the woman studied her for several long moments as she considered the request. At length, she replied, "I am sure your ladyship could be useful to us, but you must understand that we have already been fortunate in finding homes for most of our orphans. Many had other family members who were eventually located and agreed to take them in. Only a handful still remains, and we have considered sending them to the orphanage in Minas Tirith rather than maintaining this facility for so few."

She rose and moved toward the window as Lothiriel's excitement ebbed a bit. This had seemed an ideal solution; though she had little experience with children, she was very fond of them, and all she had interacted with had responded favorably toward her. Turning back to face the girl, the Matron said, "If you would like to assist us until that is decided, we would be delighted to have you. The children are always in need of attention; indeed, they are even more desperate for it than they know just now. Their world has irrevocably fallen apart, and nothing we can do will ever entirely mend it, but at least we may provide solace, and help them be strengthened to move forward with their lives in these changed circumstances. Come, I will introduce you to them, and then perhaps you would be willing to spend some time reading to them or playing games."

Lothiriel's eagerness perked up at this more encouraging direction. Yes, she would do whatever she could, if only for a short time. And if the children went to Minas Tirith, then perhaps she would also. It was possible they would have greater need of her there.

When the two women entered the common room, all eyes turned toward them. A few gave tentative smiles to the Matron, even as they stared curiously at Lothiriel. "This is Lothiriel," the Matron announced. She had been surprised that Lothiriel had requested that her title be dropped while she was working there, but had not argued about it. "She has come to help us here. I will leave her with you for awhile to get acquainted. She would enjoy reading or playing games, if any of you would like her to do so."

The Matron briefly gripped Lothiriel's arm in a sign of encouragement and then departed. For a moment, Lothiriel and the children simply stared at one another, until finally Lothiriel cleared her throat and said, "I am pleased to meet you. Would you all tell me your names so we may get to know one another better?"

The children glanced at each other, none quite willing to be first, until finally one little girl rose and came over to take Lothiriel's hand. Guiding her further into the room from the doorway, she announced, "That is Ergil, Belegadan and Malathor." She pointed to three boys gathered around some wooden soldiers and the game they had been playing with them. Then she gestured to another girl and said, "And that is Faralin. She is my sister. I am Brenwen."

Lothiriel tried smiling warmly at the children, but they still mostly just stared in return, except for Faralin, who stuck her thumb in her mouth and curled up silently in a big chair, closing her eyes as if to blot out the world around her. After a moment, one of the boys moved one of his toy figures and the other two turned back to the game. Lothiriel faltered for a moment at the tepid reaction she had received, but Brenwen tugged at her hand again. "Come. You can read a story to me and my sister. We like stories."

Brenwen ran to fetch a book that interested her, though Lothiriel was amused that it seemed well over her head in terms of complexity. Then Brenwen insisted that the three of them crowd into the chair where her sister sat. Lothiriel wasn't at all sure she wished to sit in such a cramped space with two small children, but there seemed little alternative. It was a bit uncomfortable, squeezed all together like that, but the two girls curled into her, and suddenly Lothiriel no longer noticed the discomfort. Reaching to open the book in Lothiriel's hands, Brenwen turned about halfway in to a drawing there and pointed. "Tell us this story."

Lothiriel studied the picture, not entirely sure what the child wanted. There was no 'story' that went with the picture – it was merely an illustration of history, and the drawing depicted Beren and Luthien. Was she to sit and read the history outlined in the book? "Here, I will start," Brenwen announced when Lothiriel hesitated. "There once was a beautiful princess who fell in love with a handsome prince from a distant land. He thought she was the most beautiful lady he had ever seen, and so when they met, he asked her to marry him."

Lothiriel quirked an eyebrow as she listened to Brenwen's 'story'. It took a moment to realize that the child was simply making up a story that she felt explained the picture, though surprisingly enough, some elements of the made-up story matched rather well with the true history of the pair depicted.

Faralin had stuck her thumb back in her mouth and now snuggled into Lothiriel's shoulder, closing her eyes as she listened to her sister telling the tale. Tenderness welled up in Lothiriel, causing tears to prick her eyes. She enjoyed her little nephew, but their interaction was infrequent enough that she had never really responded to him in such a personal way. These two little girls touched something deep inside her, and she wanted to weep for the loss of their parents to hold them in this way. Tightening her arms around them, she pressed a kiss to Faralin's head and turned her attention back to Brenwen's story. A few moments later, it concluded as Brenwen announced, "The end. Now you tell one." She flipped over several more pages and pointed to another picture. "Tell this one. I do not know it."

Nervously, Lothiriel cleared her throat and then launched into a possible scenario to describe the picture of Eorl riding to the aid of Gondor by request of Steward Cirion. She had not studied much of Gondor's history regarding the wars that were fought, so the story was not so familiar to her, but the more recent ride of the Rohirrim on behalf of Gondor was something she did know well. She incorporated elements of that modern tale into the telling, imagining King Eomer as Eorl of old, finding that made it easier to envision and come up with the words to describe it. When she finished, Brenwen beamed up at her. "I like that story! Tell it again!" And, with that, she snuggled back down in Lothiriel's arms and gazed once more at the picture in the book.

Lothiriel glanced up briefly to check on the boys, and was surprised to notice that they had fallen silent in their game. It took her a moment to realize they had been listening to her story as well. Repressing a slight grin, she launched once more into her 'story', trying to remember what she had said previously so it would not be too altered.

xxxxx

Over the next few days, the children warmed considerably to Lothiriel, more than she had ever expected. Even so, there still lingered a haunted look in their eyes that she could think of nothing to erase it. She found herself spending more time reading in the evenings, so as to familiarize herself with stories she could retell in her own way to the children. Naturally, the boys gravitated toward the more exciting tales of adventure, and the two little girls always wanted princesses and bold knights to the rescue.

Even a week later, Faralin still had never said a word, except for whispered remarks to her sister, and the Matron sadly told Lothiriel that had been the case ever since the child arrived some months ago. Brenwen seemed the more pragmatic of the pair, accepting of her circumstances with resignation beyond her years.

The boys were guarded in their interaction with her. They did not want to get too close to anyone and risk having them yanked away again, and it rather worried her how they would fare if the orphanage was abandoned and the children sent to Minas Tirith. As she watched the three of them, clinging to one another in fierce friendship, she determined to do what she could to ease any such transition. If it meant leaving her family and going to Minas Tirith to be with the children there, then she would do so. She did not want them feeling cast off by the vagaries of politics and finances.

Not surprisingly, the Matron enlisted her aid in the discussions with the facility at Minas Tirith. The burden had slowly eased there somewhat, as children were placed in homes, so they were better positioned to now accept these few from Dol Amroth. When finally the decision was made, Lothiriel unhesitatingly offered to accompany them on the journey and take a position at the orphanage there. Minas Tirith welcomed the attention of such a high-ranking noble, as few were much interested in the detritus from the War if it did not personally have connection with them. It was hoped Lothiriel would provide a high-profile incentive for the populace of Minas Tirith to be more receptive to adoption of these needy children.

Imrahil was both stunned and pleased when his daughter announced her decision. "You are certain about this, my dear? You know I do not get to Minas Tirith often, and there is much to do here now that the War has ended. You will be quite alone in our townhouse there," he warned.

"I am certain, Father. The children need me with them, and I will be so busy I likely will not notice the absence of family. Besides, Amrothos likes to visit there often. He will be company enough on occasion. Please, Father. I truly wish to do this," she told him earnestly.

A glint of pride lit his eyes at her fervor. Truly, she had thrown herself wholeheartedly into this endeavor. He almost did not recognize his daughter, she had changed so greatly. It had begun somewhat haltingly at the Houses, but these children had fully engaged her attention and allegiance. Much as he would miss her, he could not bring himself to dampen her enthusiasm with any objections. This was good for her, and a welcome change. It made his beautiful daughter far more appealing than she had been in the past. Only when he had glimpsed her through Eomer's eyes had he been quite so aware of how shallow his daughter had turned out, and it shamed him to acknowledge his failing. Apparently, Lothiriel herself had determined to redeem them both.

"Very well, then. Amrothos can accompany you there and see you settled, and the rest of us will visit as often as possible. When do you leave?"

"The Matron has made arrangements for us to depart the day after tomorrow. One of the river captains has agreed to carry them free of charge. And that will give me time to pack what I need to take." She paused in her enthusiastic appraisal of the situation, seeming to just realize that she soon would not enjoy suppers with all of them together for quite some time.

Noticing her change in mood, Erchirion smiled gently at his sister, "Well, we will miss you Lothiriel, but there is Faramir's wedding coming up soon enough. That will give us a chance to check and see how you are faring."

She brightened at the observation. "Yes, that is not too far off, and I may be able to help him prepare his household for Eowyn's arrival." She returned to her meal, comforted by the thought, and not noticing her family smiling fondly at her. They were pleased to see her progress of late, but still it was difficult to imagine giving her up from their lives.

TBC

Brenwen – "bold maiden" - 7

Faralin – "sufficient song" - 4

Belegadan – "great man" - 9

Ergil – "lone star" - 7

Malathor – "vein of gold" - 10


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 ** **(early Oct, 3019 III)**

Faralin did not like traveling by boat. She had refused to leave her cabin, despite Brenwen's persistent urging. Amrothos made himself useful keeping an eye on the boys, and they allowed Brenwen to accompany them on a tour of the boat so that Lothiriel could remain with Faralin. The little girl was not coping well with this move to the new orphanage, and seemed even more withdrawn than before. Consequently, Lothiriel spent a good deal of the trip just holding her close and letting Faralin cry out her fears, doing her best to provide a safe haven in her arms.

The boys found the trip up the river to be rather exciting, though Lothiriel had come to know them well enough to detect a tenseness in their posture. They were trying to enjoy this, and be accepting of this additional change in their lives, but it was still a struggle for them. Only Brenwen pressed placidly on. She was determined to like people and places and circumstances, no matter what, and it was her positive attitude that steadied the others.

The trip was proving a new experience for both Lothiriel and her brother. Neither had had much occasion to care for children, but there had seemed no reason to bring anyone along merely for the trip itself. Lothiriel found herself looking after the girls, seeing them up and dressed in the morning, fed at the appropriate times, entertained and then into bed at night. She suspected the boys were having an easy time of it, largely being allowed to do whatever they chose so long as it did not cause Amrothos any great difficulty, but she decided there was probably no harm in that for such a short period of time. Still, she could not help thinking that being a mother was far more work than she had ever imagined it to be. It seemed to consume every waking hour of the day caring for the children.

When they finally moored at the Harlond, the children looked around in trepidation and wonder. None of them had ever traveled this far from their homes, and the sight of the huge city rising up the side of the mountain was both awe-inspiring and intimidating. It took a moment for Lothiriel to mentally shift views; she was well used to visiting this city and she had to work at seeing it through the children's eyes.

Gathering them close around her, she gave them a reassuring smile and led the way to the carriages Amrothos had secured for them to travel into town from the docks. Amrothos took the boys in one, as Lothiriel and the girls claimed the other. While their luggage was being loaded, the children peered from the windows, and even Faralin could not resist peeking out from behind the curtain. Brenwen began pointing out to her sister all the exciting things she saw, attempting to encourage her interest and enjoyment of this experience.

They arrived at the orphanage just at dusk and, after letting them out, Amrothos moved on to the townhouse and dealt with the return of the carriages. It had been a long day for the Dol Amroth travelers. The Matron greeted them, ushering them into the dining hall for the evening meal as workers took their baggage to the rooms they had been given. There was little conversation over the meal, as the children gazed at their surroundings and the other orphans who were curiously studying them.

At the conclusion of supper, the Matron had Lothiriel introduce her charges to the other children, and then signaled for them to follow her on a tour of the facility. The building was far larger than the orphanage in Dol Amroth, and much older. Though clean, it clearly was worn with age and use, and Lothiriel had a bit of a mental struggle accepting this standard of living.

At length, they reached the dormitories where the boys would be staying, and the Matron showed them their beds and where their belongings had been put, explaining the routine that the children followed. As the other boys were already beginning to prepare for bed, the Matron indicated they should do the same, reminding them where the washing facility was located.

The three stood forlornly clumped together, none quite ready to make the first move in this strange environment, until Lothiriel came over to join them. Bending, she kissed each on the head and bid them goodnight, assuring them she would see them in the morning. That familiar gesture seemed to calm them, and slowly they began their nighttime preparations.

The Matron then led Lothiriel and the girls to the other dormitory, and showed them where the sisters would be staying. The resident girls stared at the newcomers, and Lothiriel felt Faralin press against her leg, tightly gripping her hand. While Brenwen attempted to reassure her sister by hopping onto the bed she had been given, Faralin did not release her hold on Lothiriel, and buried her face in the folds of Lothiriel's dress. The Matron tried to take her hand and lead her to her own bed, but immediately Faralin let out a scream and wrapped her arms tightly around Lothiriel, a terrified look on her face.

Quickly, Lothiriel stooped and swept her into her arms. "Shhh, dearest! It is all right. See, Brenwen likes it here," she encouraged, but Faralin's wails did not subside in the slightest. Her grip around Lothiriel's neck was almost painful, and nothing Lothiriel could do would soothe the child. At length, Lothiriel looked at the Matron who seemed mildly disapproving at this lack of discipline, and suggested, "Perhaps she should stay with me tonight, and we will give her more time to adjust to all this on the morrow."

Brenwen scooted off the bed and hurried over to join them. "Me, too?" she asked urgently. It was the first time Lothiriel had seen her show such nervousness, but realized she likely did not want to be separated from her sister.

"Yes, that might be a good idea," Lothiriel told her. "You can help Faralin not be fearful."

Now the Matron scowled. "My lady, I am not sure that it is wise to indulge –" she began, but Lothiriel cut her off.

"I know what you would say, and I understand your reasoning, but surely Faralin can be given a little more time in this matter. This is a very great upheaval in her life," Lothiriel said brusquely, clearly unwilling to brook any argument on the subject.

The Matron straightened stiffly, but nodded. "As you wish, my lady." She turned on her heel, calling over her shoulder, "This way to your room."

Lothiriel had Brenwen grab their two little bundles of belongings, and follow her along the corridor behind the Matron. Lothiriel rather suspected the woman was not happy with her just now, and not pleased with her 'soft' dealing with the children, but she refused to back down on this. What did it matter if Faralin stayed with her one or two nights before settling into the dormitory, if it was what she needed to be comfortable here? Under the circumstances, Lothiriel was glad she had decided to come with the children during the relocation.

As she had been living at home in Dol Amroth, and eventually would be here in Minas Tirith also, Lothiriel didn't quite know what she expected in the way of temporary quarters at the orphanage. Certainly it was not the small, drab room she now faced. It was clean and tidy, to be sure, but far different than what she was accustomed to having. Keeping her expression carefully neutral, she moved into the chamber, as the Matron turned to face her.

For an instant, Lothiriel thought she almost glimpsed a smirk as the woman asked, "Will this be satisfactory, your ladyship?"

Lothiriel's jaw tensed, but she held her irritation in check. Although she outranked this woman in society, she was not in charge here. Much as it rankled her to do so, she must be willing to yield to the leadership of others in certain matters. The woman was trying to get a rise out of her, expecting her to give up and go away, but it would not happen. Her children needed her, and she was convinced she could do good work in their behalf; she would weather such minor difficulties as this. "Please, call me Lothiriel. You need not stand on formality with me as we work together. And, yes, this will be fine."

The Matron seemed almost disappointed by the mild response, but reluctantly asked, "Shall I have cots brought in for the children?"

Lothiriel eyed the bed. Though tall, she was slender, and it was rather a large bed, bigger than she would have expected to find and almost out of place in the small room. Perhaps someone had feared offending her with anything smaller. Even with a comforter spread over it, however, it seemed a bit on the lumpy side and she wondered how comfortable it would be. At any rate, it looked to be large enough for the two children to share it with her, and she suspected they would end up doing so even if cots were obtained.

"No, I do not think that will be necessary. They can sleep with me. It should only be for a couple of nights, at the most," she replied.

Eyeing her speculatively, the Matron finally nodded. "You saw where the privy facility is, and there is wash water for you. Is there anything I have forgotten?"

"No, I think that is all. Thank you. We shall be fine through the night. We will see you at break of fast." Lothiriel offered a smile of dismissal, causing the woman to turn and leave without further comment, closing the door behind her.

Once she was gone, Lothiriel sat down on the bed, still holding Faralin, and looked at her surroundings. This was a far cry from her normal abodes. Faralin had quieted somewhat, though an occasional sniffle still erupted periodically. Brenwen hopped up next to her, and excitedly told her sister, "We get to sleep with Lothiriel tonight, Faralin. Will not that be fun!"

Her sister gave her a watery smile, and popped her thumb into her mouth. Smiling fondly, Lothiriel kissed Faralin's head and told the girls, "It has been a very long and tiring day. I think we should all get ready for bed now."

Instantly, Brenwen scooted off the bed and fetched their nightgowns from the tote bags, laying them on the bed as she began to disrobe. Setting Faralin down, Lothiriel took both girls by the hand and led them to the wash basin. "I think we should wash our faces and hands first, so we will be clean when we get into bed." She might have to forego a bath, but she still firmly believed in cleanliness.

The girls dutifully did as they were bid, while Lothiriel went to open her own bags, and begin putting some of her clothes away in the small, worn chest and wardrobe provided. Once the girls were washed, Lothiriel did likewise and then they all got into their nightgowns. Lastly, Lothiriel brushed out their hair and braided it so it would not tangle in the night, and then, as an afterthought, did the same to her own hair, to the delight of Brenwen. Finally, they all slid under the covers.

It was earlier than Lothiriel was accustomed to going to bed, but she was very tired after the emotionally trying day so she did not mind. The girls were quickly asleep, snuggled together at her side, and she smiled down at them in the moonlight that cascaded across the bed.

It was a very long night. Lothiriel had never had the experience of sharing a bed with children, thus she had no clue how 'active' they could be. They squirmed, and changed positions, repeatedly. More than once an arm, elbow or leg thumped into her, jolting her awake. Between that and her accurate assessment of the mattress, come the morning she did not feel all that rested, but the children seemingly had slept well, feeling safe with her. She could not begrudge them that no matter the discomfort to herself.

Though still a little hollow-eyed, Faralin seemed to be doing better after the night's sleep, and she was more willing to explore her surroundings than the previous day. The break of fast meal was just as unremarkable as the evening meal had been. Though she felt certain it was likely nourishing, Lothiriel did not find it particularly appealing. Even so, it was all that was available, and the taste was not objectionable, so she forced herself to eat and not allow her face to reflect her opinion on the matter.

After they had eaten, Brenwen took her by the hand and followed Lothiriel to the common room where all the children gathered after meals. There was a small play area outside, but the children could only make use of it when someone was available to supervise them, and as the staff was often overworked, that was rarely more than once a day for about an hour. The rest of the time they played indoors.

Lothiriel balked at such confinement, and took it upon herself to guide the children's recreation. As there were slightly over two dozen children, not counting the five she had brought from Dol Amroth, she was not sure she could manage them all at once, so she took half the group outside in the morning and the other half in the afternoon.

For the most part, the children were well mannered and gave her no trouble. The bulk of them had been there since the War ended in March, and they had adapted to the routine set for them. The older ones had been trained to assist with the younger ones, though they tended to have their little favored groups despite that. A few of the younger boys got into tussles with one another and had to be separated, but even in that the older boys were helpful in resolving the squabble.

The children warmed quickly to Lothiriel in light of her enabling them to get outside and play more, and by supper on her first full day, a few were already eager to sit near her and talk to her. Her own group seemed slightly resentful of this, but when Lothiriel showed them no less attention than before, they began to accept it.

It took longer than Lothiriel anticipated getting Faralin acclimated to the idea of sleeping in the dormitory, but finally by the fourth day she was persuaded to stay there with her sister. A few of the resident girls had been making friendly overtures to the newcomers, so she was beginning to relax a little.

Lothiriel was grateful to finally have the bed to herself, such as it was, and at last get a full night's sleep. She had been dragging a bit the past few days, between the tiring work and the fitful sleep she was able to get with the girls in her bed. One thing pleased her immensely, however. The Matron seemed to be looking at her with a more favorable eye now. Apparently Lothiriel's hard work and concerted lack of airs had surprised her, coming from this noblewoman, and once Faralin and Brenwen settled in the dormitory, she realized Lothiriel was not overly coddling the children as she had believed. Lothiriel was grateful for the cessation of tension between them as it had been wearing on her already weary frame of mind.

Once the children seemed to have adjusted to their new living arrangement, Lothiriel was able to move to her family's townhouse and free up the room she was using. Her own soft bed was most welcome at the end of each day. Even so, she ended up spending long hours at the orphanage, really only heading home to bathe, sleep and change clothes. With more children than there had been in Dol Amroth, there was also considerably more work to be done, but Lothiriel's tiredness at the end of the day felt earned. Now, more than ever before, she was grateful for servants to keep her clothing cleaned and her house kept.

Her more demanding schedule meant she needed to reevaluate some things, one of which was her hair. Despite the simpler hairstyle she had been sporting since starting work at the Dol Amroth orphanage, she found even that took too much time, and sometimes became unruly and annoying during the course of the day. Hardly believing she was doing such a thing, she finally resorted to the preferred hairstyle among the other workers – a single braid. It was easy to do, and kept the hair out of her way as she worked. Gazing at herself in the looking glass, she almost could not recognize the person standing there. Virtually every trace of finery and adornment had fallen by the wayside over time. Only a locket necklace that had belonged to her mother had been retained in her daily attire.

But despite the differences she saw outwardly, she was proud of the woman in the looking glass. Perhaps she was not so glamorous as she had once been, but she was certain she was more consequential than before. When she had begun working with the orphans, she had not truly anticipated becoming quite so involved, literally or emotionally, but her heart had been touched by their circumstance, and she could not think of giving them anything less than her best effort in their behalf.

xx

Before she realized it, the end of October had arrived and Eowyn was due in from Edoras with her wedding party. Though Lothiriel had intended to help Faramir order his household in preparation for his bride, she had not managed to find time to offer her services to her cousin. As it happened, though the couple would maintain a residence in the city, they intended to spend the bulk of their time in Emyn Arnen, so she would not have been able to spare the time to travel there anyway, and as the house was still under construction there was little to be done as yet. The Steward's house in town had long been in service and the servants knew their jobs, so even that did not require a great deal of attention. Likely Eowyn would want to add her own personal touches to the household anyway.

Minas Tirith had been actively rebuilding after the devastation of the War, but even so, housing was at a premium for the wedding festivities. Lothiriel's family arrived in town a few days prior to the event, and Imrahil had invited a few select guests to house with them. The bulk of the contingent from Rohan settled in tents on the Pelennor, except for the royal family itself and those people they required at hand.

The children had all watched from the wall with excitement as the Rohirrim approached the city, their banners flying. Lothiriel had found it an impressive sight, as well, but was distracted by making sure none of her charges became too overeager and risked tumbling over the wall.

The family was gathering for a pre-wedding supper that evening, but Lothiriel was much occupied at the orphanage with a spate of illness among numerous children, and failed to put in appearance. Every hand was needed to deal with the sick orphans, and she sent a messenger with her apologies, staying the night in order to help out with the nursing.

Come the morning, Lothiriel was bone tired. It had proven a long night of cleaning up messes, and changing soiled sheets and bedclothes, resulting in only a few hours of snatched sleep. She wanted nothing more than a hot bath, clean clothes and a snug bed, but there was still much to do, and the children who were healthy yet looked forward to playing outside. She did not want to disappoint them, so she resigned herself to having to wait awhile for the amenities she desired. She washed her face and rebraided her hair, then set to work again.

Just before the noon meal, the Matron sent her on an errand to fetch more medicine from the House of Healing, and she set off in the bright autumn sunlight. Much as she enjoyed the children, it was pleasant to be away from them briefly and be able to let her thoughts drift. Recalling the night's activities, she could not repress a grin at the irony – she, who had failed so miserably working at the Houses of Healing, had done plenty of nursing sick children for more than a full day now. Perhaps the urgency of the situation had made a difference that better enabled her to cope. In the Houses, she had been more of an idle onlooker, but here the need was too great.

The medicine obtained and her task completed, she somewhat reluctantly turned back toward the orphanage on the fourth level. She had not gone far when she heard raised voices, one of them clearly that of a child, and she automatically turned toward the sound. To her horror, a man had a young boy by the arm in a tight grip and was smacking him with his free hand.

"Think you can steal from me, do ya? I'll teach ya better manners, ya little thief!" the man roared, as the boy did his best to block the blows, without relinquishing the apple he held.

"Unhand that child!" Lothiriel exclaimed angrily, charging forward and forgetting that her appearance did not make for her usual commanding presence as a royal.

The man glanced up, not easing his hold on the boy's arm, and snarled, "Keep out of this, lady! It ain't none of your concern. This urchin ain't nothing but a thief!" He could tell the person before him was a lady, though dressed simply and looking a bit ragged and dishevelled at the moment, but this mere slip of a girl was hardly threatening. She would be easily cowed by him.

"He is a child, and obviously hungry! Do you begrudge him something to eat!" Lothiriel demanded, puffed up with indignation. Meanwhile the boy struggled pointlessly against the man's grip, hoping to break away during the argument.

"I said keep–"

"Do as the lady says. Release the boy," a new voice instructed, low and authoritatively. The man's eyes had gone wide at the sight of the newcomer, and Lothiriel turned to find Eomer standing a short distance behind her, and two of his guards not far off, keeping careful watch.

"Who are you?" the merchant questioned, still clinging to the boy's arm.

"No one to be trifled with, that is for certain," Eomer growled warningly, steadily meeting the man's gaze.

"But, my lord," the man stammered, not so eager to take on this new challenger, "he has stolen from me! I have my rights, don' I?"

"If he has done so, then you may seek recompense, but you do not have the right to harm a child," Lothiriel now interjected, signaling the boy to her as the man's hold slackened. The boy snatched his arm away but made no effort to move toward Lothiriel, glaring sullenly at the lot of them.

Eomer fished out a few coins and handed them over. "This ought to cover your loss. If this happens again, I suggest you take the matter to the Steward. I will inform him of what has happened here. He will not look kindly on such a thing, I am sure."

The man glanced at the coins, and then back at Eomer and Lothiriel. Without further comment, he slowly shuffled back toward his shop. As he did, the boy tried to bolt past them to freedom, but Eomer was too quick, catching him by the collar and pulling him up short.

"Do not hurt him, my lord!" Lothiriel said. Then of the boy she asked, "What is your name? Do not be afraid. We will take you somewhere safe, and you will have food so you do not have to steal it."

He struggled fruitlessly against Eomer's grip on his clothes and yelled, "I don' have to do what you say! Leave me alone!"

Eomer snatched him up sharply and said quietly, "You will speak politely to the lady – is that clear? She is helping you!"

"I don' need no help! My family'll come for me. They's delayed, tha's all!" he avowed, though they could see he was fighting to hold back tears.

"Well, until they do come, you need food, a bed and shelter. They would not want to find you living in the streets and having to steal food. You may stay at the orphanage until they come," Lothiriel said gently.

"I ain' a orphan!" the boy yelled angrily, but a flash of fear flickered on his face.

"Perhaps not, but you are alone at the moment and the streets are no place for you to be. Besides, when your family comes, likely they will check there first in order to find you," Lothiriel explained patiently, and Eomer was surprised at her tact.

The boy stopped his struggles and resentfully stared at the ground for several moments. Finally, with a sigh, he muttered, "All right, I guess that'll do." He scrubbed his dirty sleeve across his runny nose and took a defiant stance. "But just until they come!"

Eomer turned his gaze toward Lothiriel, keeping a firm hand on the boy's shoulder in case he tried to bolt anyway. This was a Lothiriel he had never imagined he would see – unkempt, tired and still flush with emotion from the encounter with the shopkeeper. Certainly this was not the woman he remembered from her time at Edoras in August. He made no comment about her appearance or the seeming difference in her demeanor; instead, he directed, "Lead on, my lady."

Lothiriel suddenly felt a bit awkward in the king's presence. She had not anticipated seeing him again in such circumstances, but at least she no longer needed to be ashamed of who she was. She knew she had changed, and improved in essentials. Whether or not he would agree remained to be seen. Still, it had been deeply ingrained in her for her entire life how one should look when in the presence of high-ranking nobles, and her present appearance did not qualify by a longshot. Her aunt would be mortified if she knew of it. Involuntarily, her hand went up and attempted to smooth her hair somewhat. She must look a fright; what had she been thinking to go out into public appearing so unkempt?

She struck off down the hill once more, leading the way to the orphanage. As they walked, Eomer and the boy slightly behind her, the king engaged the lad in conversation. "What is your name? I am Eomer," he said nonchalantly.

The boy glanced up, appraising him curiously. "You ain't from around here," he flatly announced.

"No, I am from Rohan. I am here for my sister's wedding," Eomer explained.

This was digested a moment and then the boy asked, "Did you fight in the War here?" A shadow had fallen on the boy's face, and Eomer wondered where he had been during the battle, and what he had endured.

"I did. We fought out on the Pelennor," Eomer quietly acknowledged.

"I saw them. The mumakil," the child softly admitted. "Even from inside the city they was huge." He looked up at Eomer, his expression a bit awed. "You must be very brave."

Eomer grinned at the remark and shrugged. "I did what had to be done. Sometimes it is not a question of bravery; sometimes there is no choice."

There was silence for a few moments and then the boy murmured, "My name is Telcrovan."

Eomer acknowledged the answer with a squeeze of the boy's shoulder, but gave no response as he looked up and noticed Lothiriel leading them through a small courtyard to a large building set back from the roadway. Although she had given no indication of paying attention to their conversation, clearly she had for Lothiriel now turned and signaled to the boy, "Come, Telcrovan. I will introduce you to the Matron and make arrangements for you to stay here until your family comes." Then, looking up at Eomer, she offered, "It is dinnertime, my lord, if you wish to join us for the meal. I am sure you would be welcome, and the children might enjoy meeting you."

The king had intended to dine with Imrahil for the midday meal, but now reconsidered. Turning to one of his men, in Rohirric he instructed him to go and advise Imrahil of the changed plans, and then he nodded to Lothiriel. "I should be pleased to join you, my lady."

She smiled tentatively at him, but then licked her lips nervously and told him, "I…am just called Lothiriel when I am working here, my lord. I do not use my title."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise, but nodded. "Very well, but then you must call me Eomer." Indeed! This was definitely a changed woman from the one who had 'graced' them with her presence at Meduseld in August!

She nodded, and turned to usher Telcrovan inside and down the long entrance hall. Before she reached the Matron's office at the end, the woman stepped out, intending to head for the dining hall, but stopped at the sight of the four people approaching her.

Quickly Lothiriel explained the boy's situation and her request for him to join their number. The Matron's eyes met hers, and the two silently communicated; it was evident they both doubted anyone would come for the boy. Slowly the older woman nodded. "Telcrovan, we shall be pleased to have you stay with us as long as is necessary. Dinner is just beginning. Lothiriel can show you where to wash, and we will get you settled in after the meal." Her eyes flicked then to Eomer and she raised a questioning eyebrow at Lothiriel.

"Matron, this is…Eomer. I have invited him and his guard to join us for our meal. He provided me with assistance regarding Telcrovan."

She did not go into detail about what assistance had been needed, and the woman knew better than to ask at this moment. "Very well. It is an honor…sir." Clearly this was a nobleman, an important one if he had a guard, and, from the look of it, likely from Rohan. Most intriguing. Gesturing to her right, she indicated Lothiriel should proceed to the washroom, and Eomer moved to follow as well.

All eyes turned when the four entered the dining hall, and the children were torn between curiously staring at the blond men or the new boy. Lothiriel led them to empty spots at a nearby table, and they settled on the benches, Eomer's guard looking somewhat uncomfortable in this setting.

Across the table sat Lothiriel's three boys from Dol Amroth, along with another boy they had befriended here. Lothiriel introduced them to each other, and Malathor observed, "You are from Rohan."

"Yes," Eomer nodded, taking a bite of stew.

The boy next to Malathor snickered, and when his friend turned to look at him the boy announced knowingly, "He is the king of Rohan!" The three blinked at this news and turned once more to stare owlishly at Eomer. The boy added in explanation, "I saw you, when the men came back from the Black Gate. You were with King Elessar."

Eomer nodded. "Yes. I did not expect to be recognized."

"Are you truly a king?" Ergil questioned curiously.

"I am," Eomer answered, turning his attention to the youngest of the group.

Ergil chewed on this a moment, then asked, "Do you like being king?"

Eomer shrugged. "It is something I must do. My people need someone to lead them and I have been chosen to do so. It is not always easy, but it is necessary."

Next to him, Telcrovan shifted uneasily. He had liked this man initially, and thought perhaps he had found a friend. But a king would not wish to be friends with him. He stirred his food dispiritedly, despite his hunger. He was so tired of feeling alone in the world.

Lothiriel, noticing his lack of appetite, asked quietly, "Is the food not to your liking, Telcrovan? I could send to the kitchens for something else if you wish."

He shrugged. "It is fine," he murmured, not looking at her. He was surprised when an arm came around his shoulders from Eomer, and he glanced cautiously at the king.

"Try to eat," Eomer encouraged. "Believe me, I have had worse! A man should always eat when he can, in case the opportunity does not soon come again." His eyes glinted with humor, and the boy could not resist being pleased at being grouped with the 'men'. Slowly he nodded and began to eat.

As he did, Eomer's eyes met Lothiriel's across his back. She was moved by his gentleness and understanding with the boy. In their previous meetings, she had considered him somewhat cold and distant, despite the warmth he had shown in dealing with his men. Their attention was pulled back to the children, as the boys began eagerly questioning Eomer about battle, horses and Rohan. Even his guard was pelted with queries, and he gradually seemed to relax and warm to the children a bit despite his lack of experience with them. But Lothiriel's thoughts lingered on this unusual man sitting near her. She had never met people like the Rohirrim before, and she was not quite sure how to react to them. There was an honesty and lack of pretense that she was beginning to think was quite admirable.

When the meal concluded, Lothiriel enlisted her three boys to come with them and help Telcrovan get settled in. At first the group was a bit awkward, but slowly they began to adjust to one another, and once the tour of the facility was done, and a bed chosen for Telcrovan, the trio invited him to come with them to play a game. Looking to Lothiriel for permission, Telcrovan eagerly moved away with them at her affirming nod.

Before he had gone but a few steps, Eomer called out, "Telcrovan." When the boy turned, he said, "I will be in town for awhile. Since we are friends, may I come visit you now and then?"

The lad's face lit up at the request and he nodded fervently. "Of course! I would like that!"

Eomer gave him a grin and nodded, and the boy turned away with a lighter step.

"That was very generous of you," Lothiriel softly acknowledged. "I know you are quite busy, but he needs a friend just now to help him find his place."

"Yes, I know. I remember what it feels like," Eomer murmured quietly. He became aware that Lothiriel was eyeing him questioningly and explained, "I lost my family when I was young, a few years older than Telcrovan. Even though I went to live with my uncle and cousin, it was not easy to adapt to all the changes in my life."

Lothiriel's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "I did not know. But I appreciate any time you may spare to help him through this."

They stood in silence a moment, until Eomer apologized, "I must go. I am to meet with Elessar soon." He gave her a short bow.

Before he could turn away, Lothiriel offered, "Thank you for your help, Eomer."

He nodded and moved off down the hall with his guard, and Lothiriel watched them depart with a bemused expression. When they had met previously, she was not at all sure that she liked the taciturn man who treated her so coldly. This encounter with him had revealed a different side, and she had found him much more engaging than before.

Shaking her head, she went to collect the medicine she had left in the Matron's office prior to dinner, and deliver it to the staff healer.

TBC

Telcrovan – "wild stem" - 8


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 **

Over the next few days, Lothiriel had to make time in her schedule to attend at least some of the wedding festivities. Many of them took place in the evenings, and she found herself shifting impatiently when caught in the same conversations over and over again. While such socializing had once appealed to her, and consumed her life, now she could think of far better ways to spend her time than this, but she did not wish to snub Eowyn by her lack of attendance, and so she endured them. She had become quite adept at plastering a smile on her face, seeming to listen with interest to some noblewoman babbling on about inconsequential matters, all the while mentally reviewing things she needed to do the next day at the orphanage.

The dancing was even more challenging. Much as she enjoyed dancing, and had eagerly pursued it previously, her situation had changed drastically. There was no end to the young men queueing up to dance with her, but after a long day on her feet, she was not inclined to prance around a dance floor all night. Some were annoyingly persistent in their requests, remembering well her willingness in days past, and she had difficulty convincing them she was not inclined to participate.

On the eve of the wedding, the festivities were in full swing, and Lothiriel longed for them to end so she could tumble into bed. That was not likely, since most in the room seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, but at length she managed to edge unnoticed out into one of the gardens off the hall, and take a moment's rest on a bench in an out-of-the-way spot. Slipping off her shoes, she bent to rub at a sore, tired foot.

Suddenly someone knelt in front of her and caught her foot in strong hands. She let out a gasp before looking up to find Eomer smiling at her in amusement. She could not fathom how such a large and powerful man could move so silently, and yet he seemed to continually be startling her with his abrupt appearance from nowhere. His hands were gently massaging her foot, and she could not stifle a groan of pleasure, though it embarrassed her to be caught like this, and his actions were most inappropriate. She was grateful the darkness concealed his efforts from view. After a moment, she attempted to draw her foot away, but he held it firmly. "Hold still. I would imagine your feet appreciate the attention after your busy day."

She could hardly argue that point, and he well knew it. He had dropped by the orphanage in the afternoon, and spent more than an hour talking with Telcrovan and several of the older boys. To her amazement, he had even gotten the Matron to give him permission to take them to the stable for awhile, to visit his horse. The boys had returned chattering excitedly over the experience. Lothiriel couldn't quite make out why he was so good with the children when he had none of his own and little personal experience, but perhaps it was more that the boys were desperate for some male attention and any inexperience was inconsequential to them. Despite the absence of nearly a dozen boys, it had still been a hectic day for the orphanage workers, so Lothiriel had found time to do little more than greet the king in passing.

"It does feel very nice, Eomer, but you should not –" she began to protest, uncomfortable with a king kneeling in front of her and doing such an undignified thing, but he cut her off.

"Why should I not? I am here and you are in need. Being king does not make me so important that I cannot render service to another." He did not look up, now switching his efforts to her other foot.

"I…. Thank you," she murmured, unable to think of an argument against this. Certainly in her royal world, the nobles did not engage in such demeaning activities, not for anyone. Clearly he did not view things from Gondor's perspective of acceptable. And, as she considered it, what was wrong with him providing this gesture to a friend?

She blinked at the thought. _Friend? She and Eomer?_ In August she would never have thought that likely, but so it seemed to be, at least on some level. She sighed softly. Likely he found her more agreeable now than he had then; how could he help but do so. It shamed her to remember her actions and words then.

"My lord…Eomer," she amended when he gave her a scolding look for using his title, "I…I would like to apologize for my behavior in Rohan. I do not blame you for the words you spoke to me, or the things of which you accused me. They were all very true, and my behavior was a dishonor to my father and my family." She gazed down at her hands clasped in her lap, embarrassed to look at him.

His hands stilled on her foot, and slowly he released it, then reached for her slippers and eased them back on her feet before moving to sit beside her. "I was overly judgemental," he confessed. "I did not make allowance for the way you had lived your life before. You acted in the only way you knew."

"No, do not forgive my thoughtlessness," she admonished. "Father never intended that I be thus, but with only my aunt's influence to guide me, and Papa's fond indulgence, I grew vain and pampered. But I have a good mind, and my family set a good example for me to follow. I should have acted better, and seen sooner how foolish was my path. I am glad that you challenged me on it. I believe my life is much more worthwhile now."

Eomer smiled in the moonlight. "I cannot disagree with that. The orphans can well use your aid and care. It is a worthy task you set for yourself." He paused, then asked, "What will become of them?"

She sighed, then admitted, "I do not know. I am trying to think of ways to encourage the populace to adopt them, but it goes slowly. I should not like to think they will be stuck in the orphanage until they are grown. For all that it provides them, it cannot compare with a proper home."

They had become quite relaxed together, and Lothiriel took a deep breath before confessing, "I…I am thinking perhaps to take some of them out into the countryside. Perhaps there are families there who will wish to take them in, and it might be good for them to get away from the city. I have not mentioned the idea to anyone yet, but I think after the wedding, I will bring it up. Not all of the children will want to go, of course, but I believe some of them might desire it."

Eomer made no comment on her plans, but after several minutes he rose and offered her a hand up. "I hope your idea is well received. If I can lend my support to your cause, I am happy to do so. Now, then, I believe we should return indoors. As family of the betrothed couple we cannot politely absent ourselves all night."

She smiled ruefully at the observation and nodded. "True. But I, and my feet, do thank you for your timely assistance!"

xxxxx

It had taken considerable persuasion, but Lothiriel was finally able to convince the Matron to allow her to take Brenwen and Faralin to Faramir's wedding with her. She had mentioned her intent to her father the previous day, and was met with skepticism that it was a good idea, but Lothiriel would not be dissuaded. She knew the little girls would enjoy the pomp and pageantry of the affair.

She had procured suitable dresses for the girls, but decided it would be best to take them to her home and outfit them there than at the orphanage. The two sisters giggled excitedly as the three of them bathed, dressed and primped for the wedding, though as the time drew nearer, Faralin became a bit more withdrawn and uncertain. Brenwen clutched her sister's hand reassuringly, insisting, "This will be such fun, Faralin!"

When at length they were ready and the time to go had arrived, Lothiriel took Brenwen's hand and led the way down the hall. Her father and brothers were gathered at the foot of the staircase, awaiting them, and Imrahil could not restrain a fond smile at his daughter and her two charges. It gave him a twinge to see her acting in such a motherly fashion, and he hoped it would not be long before she found a companion for life and bore children of her own.

Amrothos offered his arm to his sister, and the family marched off to the Citadel to take their places. There were no other children attending the event, and the chamberlain looked askance at the two accompanying the Dol Amroth party, but did not dare object. Brenwen's head was twisting and turning in every direction so as not to miss anything, but Faralin shyly clung to her sister's hand and watched the floor. A servant led them to their seating, and they settled in place. Knowing she would have a better view, Lothiriel badgered Amrothos into allowing Brenwen to sit on his lap, and she held Faralin. Wrapped in Lothiriel's arms, the four-year-old relaxed somewhat, leaning back against the woman's shoulder, sucking her thumb.

Brenwen was asking a million questions, along with oohing and aahing over everything she saw, and Lothiriel could not hold back a smile. With her fondness for princess stories, she had felt certain the little girl would thoroughly enjoy this, and clearly she had not been mistaken. Even roguish Amrothos seemed drawn in by her enthusiasm, and before long he was not only answering her, but drawing her attention to anything she seemed to have missed. Lothiriel rather enjoyed seeing this gentle side to her brother.

The wedding itself was beautiful and Eowyn was a lovely bride. Lothiriel had never seen her cousin looking so happy before, and despite his somewhat staid reputation, the kiss he gave Eowyn when the ceremony was concluded brought chuckles from many, and a few catcalls from his former Ithilien rangers who were attending.

Brenwen sat through the whole thing gazing with rapt attention to it all, and let out a sigh as it ended. Clapping her hands together, she exclaimed, "Wonderful!", which brought a chuckle from Lothiriel and her family.

The gathering adjourned to the Hall of Feasts for dancing and merriment, to be followed by the wedding supper. Initially, Lothiriel had thought she would take the girls back at that point, but Brenwen was eager to see the dancing and so she relented in their attending.

With two little girls in tow, Lothiriel was less approachable, and so few noblemen came forward to offer to partner her. Even if she were inclined, she did not want to leave the girls alone, so she declined all prospects, settling for watching from the sidelines.

They had been there nearly an hour, and with some effort Lothiriel had induced a servant to find some juice for the girls to drink. They were settled at a table with a good vantage point for the dance floor, when suddenly Eomer approached. Offering a bow to the three of them, Lothiriel was astonished when he extended his hand not to her but to Brenwen. "Would my lady care to dance?" he asked with a grin.

Brenwen beamed up at him, but looked hesitantly at Lothiriel. "Go ahead, if you wish," Lothiriel encouraged, though not quite sure how this was going to work.

Brenwen was quickly on her feet, gazing uncertainly up at Eomer to see what he wanted her to do. Taking her hand, he led her to the side of the floor, and then took each of her hands in his. "Step up on my boots," he instructed, and with a perplexed look, she carefully did so. Slowly he began moving in a small circle, with Brenwen balanced on top of his feet, and she giggled with excitement.

For her part, Lothiriel sat watching the whole thing in utter amazement. She would hardly have imagined the king of Rohan to behave so tenderly with a little girl. More and more she was beginning to realize how little she knew of this man. Her initial impressions of him, colored by her own self-absorption, had not been favorable, but now she could not miss his depth and compassion. A warrior he might be, but he was also a fine man. Suddenly she was very glad they had met, and even more so that he might now consider her worth knowing. To have the respect of this man would be an accomplishment indeed.

As the dance ended, Brenwen stepped down, but then flung her arms around Eomer in a hug, causing him to smile again. Movement to Lothiriel's left drew her attention, and she turned to see that Faralin had hopped up and was trotting over to Eomer and her sister. When she reached them, she skidded to a stop and gazed up at the tall man before her. Eomer looked down with a questioning eye, and then abruptly Faralin lifted her arms to him and said hopefully, "Dance!"

Lothiriel's jaw dropped; that was the first word she had ever heard the child speak to anyone but her sister! What was it about this gruff Rohirrim that had gotten through her fears, and made her feel secure enough to talk? While Brenwen hurried back to join her at the table, Eomer scooped the child up in his arms and, as the next dance started, he swung onto the floor, dipping and whirling to the complete delight of the little girl. She giggled and shrieked, and buried her face in his shoulder a time or two, but clearly was enjoying the experience immensely.

Lothiriel got a glimpse of Eowyn, standing off to the side and staring dumbfounded at her brother, though King Elessar beside her merely seemed amused by it all. Clearly Lothiriel was not the only one flabbergasted by this turn of events. The other guests were casting confused glances at the king of Rohan for his unconventional behavior, but none dared reproach him for it.

When the dance ended, and Eomer returned the still laughing Faralin to their table, Brenwen piped up to instruct, "Now dance with Lothiriel!"

Lothiriel blushed at the remark, though she knew Brenwen did not realize the impropriety of it. As far as the children were concerned, this was a wonderful party among friends, but the nobility gathered would not look upon things so casually. To her surprise, Eomer extended his hand and said, "A fine idea, I think. You will keep an eye on your sister, Brenwen?" The child nodded energetically, and Lothiriel saw no recourse but to dance with the king.

She had danced with an untold number of men in her life, of the highest rank imaginable; she had even danced with King Elessar more than once, but suddenly she felt awkward and out of place as they moved to take up their positions. She was beginning to discover that she very much wanted this man's approbation. It seemed impossible that she might find favor with him, after the censure he had given her just a few short months ago, yet his actions toward her ever since arriving at Minas Tirith had been nothing but warm and cordial. Was it possible she had sufficiently redeemed herself in his estimation? The glint in Eomer's eyes suggested he had a clue to her feelings, but he made no comment, merely stepping through the dance movements with precision, and allowing her time to recover her equilibrium.

After Eomer set the precedent, Faramir, Imrahil, Amrothos and even King Elessar stepped forward to squire Brenwen on the floor. Faralin refused to go to anyone but Eomer, but he agreeably danced with her twice more. As the afternoon wore on, it was clear that Faralin was beginning to flag, and though her sister would gladly have stayed much longer, and even taken supper with the other guests, she was ever solicitous of her sister, announcing to Lothiriel, "I think we should be going now. Faralin is very tired."

Lothiriel was quick to agree with that assessment, and rose from her chair, but unexpectedly, so did Eomer. "I will see you back," he offered, and Lothiriel blinked in surprise before nodding her consent.

"Thank you, Eomer. We will need to stop at the townhouse to change the girls' clothes," she warned.

He inclined his head in understanding, reaching for Faralin, who willingly went into his arms to be carried. Before they could leave, Eowyn suddenly appeared before them. She stood with her arms crossed, and quirked an eyebrow at her brother.

Smiling nonchalantly, Eomer asked, "Did you want something, Eowyn? If not, I will return momentarily. I was just going to see these ladies home."

For a moment Eowyn was silent, then shaking her head in bewilderment, but grinning, she stepped aside. "By all means, brother, for you are a complete gentlemen. We will speak later!" The last was said pointedly, and Eomer was left in no doubt that his sister intended to interrogate him about this behavior she considered so uncharacteristic of him.

Lothiriel led the way from the hall, very much aware of all the eyes that followed them, most of which were female and tinged with jealousy. She had not stopped to consider that their entourage would draw so much notice, but she had been in the most noble courts for far too long to be in doubt of what would be whispered about them. If Eomer was not romantically linked to her before he returned to the Hall for supper, she would be astonished.

She should have anticipated such a thing, but then she had not expected Eomer to be so attentive to the three of them in the first place. He had completely caught her off her guard. Why had he done so? Courtesy? Compassion? As he was an orphan himself, perhaps he had wanted to make the day as memorable as possible for the girls, and he did not strike her as the sort to pay much mind to what others might think of his actions. Hopefully nothing would be said in his earshot to dampen his enthusiasm for acting so unpretentiously. There were few among the nobility who would behave similarly, but she found it quite appealing. And she had been moved to the depths of her being to see him interacting with shy, reticent little Faralin. She could never express her deep gratitude for his solicitude toward all of the children, but before he returned home, she must try to let him know how very grateful she was for it.

Faralin was close to being asleep in Eomer's arms by the time they reached the townhouse, but she was roused long enough to change to her usual clothing, and then they continued on to the orphanage. By then, her arms had slid around Eomer's neck and she was sleeping peacefully on his shoulder with her face buried in his neck. Brenwen led the way to her sister's bed, where he tucked the child under the blanket, pressing a kiss to her head before moving away.

When he rejoined Brenwen and Lothiriel who were waiting in the doorway, Brenwen flung her arms around him and gushed, "Thank you, Eomer! I had a wonderful day!"

He stooped down to her level and grinned. "Then I am pleased!" he assured her. "And, now, I must get back as I still have duties I must attend to as the bride's brother." Brenwen nodded her understanding, but giggled with glee when he kissed her cheek before standing.

"Lothiriel," he said quietly, "it has been a pleasure. I will see you soon." With a slight bow, he turned toward the exit and they stood watching him go.

"I like Eomer," Brenwen announced firmly. "And so does Faralin."

Lothiriel smiled down at her, letting her hand come to rest on the child's shoulder, and thinking how strongly her own feelings echoed Brenwen's. "Yes, he is very nice." Switching subjects, she added, "Perhaps you would like a nap also before supper, or do you want to go play?"

Her answer was a yawn that Brenwen could not quite stifle, and sheepishly the girl told her, "I suppose I had better rest. Will you be here for supper?"

Lothiriel considered the matter and then shook her head. "I had better not, dearest. Faramir is my cousin, so I ought to be there for his wedding supper, but I will return in the morning and then things will be back to usual."

Just before the feast began, Lothiriel slipped into the seat next to her father, who gave her a warm smile. While the remainder of the evening was pleasant, Lothiriel did not think it nearly so agreeable as the afternoon had been. Looking around the room, however, she found herself in a reflective mood. Life was changing, for most everyone. Erchirion had become engaged a fortnight ago, and would marry in the spring, Faramir was now married and ready to start a family, they had a new king on the throne of Gondor and the darkness of Mordor was finally swept from their lands. She did not know where precisely her own life was headed, but gazing at her assembled family members, she realized this might well be one of the last times they were all gathered together in a single place. That notion was both saddening and exciting. She hoped her future would bring good things, including a home and family, but she would miss her family, as she knew she would likely be seeing far less of them as their lives took them in separate directions.

Her eyes turned toward Eomer, where he was ensconced chatting with Elessar and chuckling over something one of them had said. For just an instant, his eyes lifted and met her gaze. The merest of smiles flitted over his features, before he returned to his conversation, and Lothiriel focused her attention elsewhere, though his reaction caused her to smile as well.

xxxxx

It had been three days since the wedding, and though Faramir and Eowyn were happily off on their honeymoon, most everyone else still had business that needed attending.

"What is next on our agenda?" Elessar asked, glancing at Hurin, who was standing in for the absent Steward.

Studying a parchment before him, Hurin said slowly, "We seem to have a request from…the orphanage, Sire."

Eomer blinked and straightened slightly in his seat, having a sneaking suspicion what this might be regarding.

"Indeed? And what is their request?" Elessar asked mildly, making no judgement until the circumstances were known.

"They…it would appear that Lady Lothiriel is asking for permission, and assistance, for taking some of the orphans out into the countryside so she may seek to place them in homes there." Hurin looked up, seeming a bit confused. "I am not sure why she thinks this necessary, my lord. I would think the orphanage would do better to place these children in homes within the city."

Almost without realizing he was doing so, Eomer spoke up. "Lothiriel believes there may be farm families who would more readily take in some of the many children the orphanage still houses, and that a few of the children might do better if they could find homes in the country."

Elessar raised an eyebrow, but made no comment, as Eomer continued, "I will pledge three Riders to accompany her on this effort, to see to their safety and to keep their camp. My Riders can return home whenever Lothiriel…Lady Lothiriel releases them."

Now Elessar did look surprised. "This is not a matter that should require your attention, Eomer. Surely it is Gondor's concern. Do you not have enough worries of your own without contending with ours as well?" he asked quietly.

"Where orphans are concerned, I am not particular about boundaries," Eomer replied bluntly. "This needs doing, and I promised Lady Lothiriel my support. If it means more children find good homes, then I am satisfied."

Elessar nodded thoughtfully, then declared, "Very well. If Rohan supports this endeavor, then Gondor can do no less. We will see that they are provisioned adequately for the undertaking. Does the lady say when she wishes to undertake this?"

Hurin glanced again at his notes and answered, "Yes, my lord. She hopes to depart within the week, so she may get some of the children settled in before winter comes. According to this, she intends to work her way south toward Dol Amroth, and then come back by boat with any children who still remain in her care."

Elessar looked at Eomer. "You were intending to spend time with Imrahil on the coast, were you not? If you are there long enough, perhaps your men will be returned to you before you head home."

Eomer shrugged. "Perhaps, but I will not have them rush on my account. Better to take the time and do it properly."

"All right, then. Eomer, choose your men and inform them. Hurin, advise Lady Lothiriel she may proceed with her plans and make arrangements to outfit their party with whatever is needed. They may depart as soon as all is ready."

"How…will this be funded, my lord?" Hurin cautiously questioned.

"If Gondor has insufficient, then take it directly from the king's coffers," Elessar instructed. "We will find the means wherever we must."

As business turned to other matters, Eomer leaned back and began considering who to choose for this task. A slight smile tugged at his mouth, though it was hidden behind his hand. Lothiriel would be pleased by this news.

TBC

**_FYI: Eomer did not wait to walk Lothiriel back to the wedding feast because he did not realize she would be returning. They hadn't discussed it and he assumed she was staying with the children, or he would have waited for her._**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Eomer scowled as he stood at the gate to the orphanage courtyard. He had been in a good mood, anticipating letting Lothiriel know her plans could proceed, but then Aragorn had spoken to him afterwards with some unpleasant news. Faramir had told the king of Eomer's involvement with Telcrovan, but had confided that he thought there was little hope of finding any more family members yet alive for the orphans. Relatives, perhaps, but likely the family itself was gone. Eomer could imagine what it would do to the boy when he was forced to acknowledge the truth of his situation.

With a sigh, he pushed the gate open and stepped inside, plastering a smile on his face. When he entered the building, no one was in sight, but he heard voices from the common room. Glancing in, a few children greeted him, but they were not ones he knew well, so he smiled and moved on. He supposed many might be outside playing, so he moved in that direction as that was the likeliest place to find Lothiriel.

When he passed the dining hall, however, a sound caught his attention since the room had appeared to be empty. Poking his head in, it took a moment to spot the figure sprawled in the window seat and staring morosely out at the day. Quietly he approached Telcrovan and sat down next to him, unsure what to say, given his new knowledge of things.

The boy glanced at him, but said nothing for a long while, and Eomer did not press him for conversation, sensing that something was bothering him, and hoping he would reveal it in his own due time.

Finally, the boy was ready. "They ain't comin', is they?" Telcrovan asked hollowly, still staring out the window. Eomer knew immediately he was speaking of his family. Somehow the boy had realized the truth without being told. Maybe being in a safe place where people cared about him had enabled him to acknowledge what he was afraid to even consider before.

Eomer sighed, then answered, "No, I do not believe so. The enemy killed many who were trying to defend the city, and keep their families safe."

"Guess I _am_ a orphan then, huh?" Telcrovan gave a small gulp, trying to swallow his emotions.

"Yes, like me," Eomer said.

The boy looked up and blinked. "You?"

Eomer nodded. "I was eleven years when my father was murdered by orcs, and my mother died soon after. I have lived with my uncle ever since, but he was killed here at Mundburg…Minas Tirith, fighting against the darkness."

Telcrovan considered this information. "So you didn' have to live at a orphanage, huh?"

"No," Eomer shook his head, explaining, "but I was with people who looked after me and saw that I had what I needed. And even though it was not my mother and father, they cared for me. The people at the orphanage do care about you. They will look after you. It is better than being alone, and wondering where you will find food and a safe place to sleep."

"I s'pose so," Telcrovan acknowledged softly, dropping his chin onto his crossed arms on the window ledge. After a moment, Eomer saw the thin shoulders shaking slightly, and allowed his hand to come to rest on the boy's back. The touch seemed to be his undoing, and an instant later Telcrovan flung himself into Eomer's arms and sobbed. Eomer just held him, biting back his own tears, and realizing how much more fortunate he had been than many others.

Telcrovan wept for some time, and then finally pulled back, swiping at his eyes in embarrassment, and refusing to look Eomer in the face. "I…I didn'–"

Eomer cut him off. "There is no shame in your sorrow. Some things are worth a man's tears, but I will speak of this to no one. It is just between the two of us," Eomer reassured him, and was rewarded with a watery, relieved grin.

Eomer remained a bit longer talking with Telcrovan, and once he finally seemed calmed the king excused himself. He was not overly surprised when he found Lothiriel standing in the hallway, a cloth pressed to her cheeks to sop up her tears. He had thought he heard someone, but chose not to bring it to Telcrovan's attention.

Now Lothiriel glanced up and smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you. I did not know how to tell him his hopes were likely in vain, but Faramir does not think his family survived and will be found alive," she told him.

Eomer nodded. "I know. Aragorn told me after our meeting today. Perhaps it was easier for Telcrovan to hear it from someone who understands how it feels," he said quietly.

They stood silently for a moment, and then Eomer moved forward and pulled her into his embrace. For an instant, she was startled, but then the welcome warmth and consolation struck her, and the tears flowed for several long minutes. When at last she recovered her composure, she reluctantly stepped back out of his arms, scrubbing at her face. "Forgive me," she said hoarsely. "I used to think the work was the hardest part of being with the children, but I have come to realize that it is much more difficult not suffering along with them, in pain or sorrow or disappointment." She looked intently up at him, hoping he was understanding what she was trying to say.

A slight smile creased his face and he nodded his comprehension. "It is like that when you care about people. Even more so when they are children who cannot yet fend for themselves." His hand came up and stroked her head in a calming manner, though she found it distractingly intimate, and then he said quietly, "I have good news, though, that may help. Aragorn has approved your taking some of the children round the countryside to find them homes. Hurin is getting together provisions for you and I am supplying three of my men to accompany you. You may leave in a few days, if you wish."

Her eyes brightened at the news and a smile lit her face. "Oh, Eomer, that is wonderful!" She hugged him quickly, her excitement evident, then turned on her heel and started up the hall. "There is so much to do! I must make a list of what I need and I must decide which children to take and…" Her voice was lost as she hurried away from him, and he chuckled in amusement as he watched her go. Truly, Imrahil's daughter was much different than when they first met, and he found the alteration most appealing. Noticing he was standing alone in the hall, and deciding his time could be better spent preparing his riders to go with her, he did not linger at the orphanage longer that day.

xx

This was not so easy as Eomer had imagined it would be. All was in readiness, his men had been quite willing to serve in this capacity, Lothiriel was enthusiastic, and though the children had a bit more trepidation, they were also. Even the weather had cooperated and they were departing on a clear autumn day. And still Eomer was on edge at the thought of watching them ride away.

It was foolishness, he told himself. They would be perfectly safe, and with any luck it would be a successful venture. He shook himself mentally, trying to dispel his uneasiness, but if he was perfectly honest, he knew part of the reason for it. All of the children from Dol Amroth had desired to go with Lothiriel, as had Telcrovan. All the children he was closest to. While he wanted them to have good homes, and to have happy lives, part of him would miss them terribly. True, he would be in Rohan, and removed from them most of the time anyway, even if they remained at the orphanage, but somehow this felt more like he was abandoning them.

Forcing himself not to show his turmoiled thoughts, he moved from the shadow of the wall where he stood to bid them farewell. All the children greeted him eagerly, even as Lothiriel was scurrying about making sure all was as it should be. The Matron was not far behind her, reciting a litany of instructions that he was not entirely certain the girl was listening to, but she still managed to nod at the proper moments, as though she was.

The Dol Amroth boys and Telcrovan gathered around him, as Faralin reached for him to pick her up and then hugged him tightly. Brenwen smiled up at him, but he could see a bit of strain on her face. She was trying very hard to be brave, but there was fear in her eyes that tore at his heart.

He felt a dampness on his neck and looked down to see tears trickling from Faralin's eyes. "Shhhh!" he murmured, rubbing her back. "Do not weep, little one. This is a good thing. Lothiriel will not allow anything bad to happen to you, and she will only leave you with a good family who will love and care for you," he reassured the child in his arms and those standing nearby. "You must trust her. She loves you dearly and she will do everything in her power to help you find a happy place to live. All right?"

The boys nodded their understanding, as did Brenwen, and after a moment, Faralin did as well. "Good," he said, pressing a kiss to her head. "Now, you are going to have a great adventure for the next few days or so. I want to hear from Lothiriel that you had a grand time, and that you behaved well, and that you boys kept an eye on the girls out in the wild. And much as it would be nice to see you in Dol Amroth, I will hope that instead you find a place to stay and do not come. But I am sure Lothiriel will tell me where you are, and I will try to visit when I can." Then with a bit of huskiness to his voice, he said more softly, "And you must help Lothiriel bear this, for she will not find it easy to part from you. But it is for the best. Will you do that?" Again they all nodded, but this time there were a few sniffles and surreptitious swipes at eyes.

And then they were loading into the wagons, with much waving to Eomer and the children who were remaining behind. Eomer moved to help Lothiriel into the wagon last of all. Staying her for a moment, he said quietly, "I will hope to see you in Dol Amroth empty handed, but if I must leave before you arrive, please write and let me know the outcome."

Lothiriel swallowed hard at the admonition, but nodded and gave him a weak smile. She had been so busy preparing for this venture, she had not had much time to think about the fact that she and Eomer would now be parting company for an indefinite period. If she did not reach Dol Amroth before he left, there was no telling when she would again see him, and that was more depressing a thought than she would have anticipated. "Enjoy the sea," she murmured, unable to think of anything else, and preferring to stay on a safe subject at just this moment, her emotions making rational speech difficult.

She turned toward the wagon, and Eomer helped her in to sit beside Faralin and Brenwen. Last of all, before the wagons moved away, Eomer stepped to where Telcrovan was seated and firmly met his gaze. Then he gave him a warrior's arm clasp before signaling the drivers on their way.

As they moved slowly down the road, the children still waving frantically out the back of the wagons, Imrahil stepped to Eomer's side. "Do not worry, my friend. I am sure all will be well. I just hope it turns out as Lothiriel anticipates. She will be devastated if no one will take the children and give them a good home."

Amrothos had sidled up to join them and gave a snicker. "Personally, I pity the folks wanting to take the children! Lothiriel is not going to let them go until she has grilled the prospective families thoroughly! If she thought you would agree to it, Father, she'd have adopted them all herself by now!"

The three men chuckled, but they recognized the truth in Amrothos' words.

xxxxx

"A pleasant morning to you, good lady," Lothiriel greeted the woman approaching her warily from the small farm house. Their first three days of the trip had been quite successful; she had found two families very interested and willing to take a child and so two had already been placed. That achievement had left Lothiriel optimistic about the remainder, until a few missteps made her view things a bit more realistically.

Lothiriel had learned that keeping an eye on Brenwen was an excellent gauge of the situation. The child almost seemed to sense a person's character instantly, regardless of their outward behavior or words. Brenwen had recoiled from one man although he had seemed friendly and receptive, but then the man's wife had come out of the house to see what was going on, and he had angrily berated her in the foulest language until she retreated. Lothiriel had been glad of the Riders Eomer had sent with them then, and her only regret was that she was unable to help that poor beleaguered wife escape also.

Some families made it clear they were not interested, without allowing Lothiriel to progress very far into her explanation, but most at least listened, even if they were not inclined to take any of the children.

Now, she launched into her usual spiel, explaining her purpose as the children came to gather round her. The woman listened impassively, her gaze raking the children arrayed before her. As Lothiriel concluded, she had pretty much decided this stern woman would never be acceptable though, surprisingly enough, Brenwen was smiling cheerfully at her.

Without warning, the woman stooped in front of Faralin, who took a step back. "What is your name?" she asked abruptly. Faralin just stared wide-eyed at her, and Brenwen took her sister's hand reassuringly.

"Her name is Faralin and I am Brenwen," she informed the woman. "We are sisters. Faralin doesn't talk to anyone but me."

The woman glanced up questioningly at Lothiriel who explained, "She has not spoken to anyone but Brenwen since she lost her parents."

To Lothiriel's surprise, the woman's stern face softened slightly and she smiled at the little girl before her. "Reckon she has a good enough reason to keep quiet. She'll talk when she's ready." Her hand slowly moved up and stroked the child's head, and amazingly enough, Faralin smiled shyly at her.

Standing up, the woman folded her hands in front of her and told Lothiriel in a business-like manner, "They can stay. The two girls. I'll take both of them. Can't go splitting up sisters."

For a moment, Lothiriel felt as though she had been kicked in the stomach. Much as she had wanted this, had intended it, parting with her two little girls was painful to consider. As if sensing her feelings, Brenwen moved over and took her hand, just as she had the first time they had met. Looking up at Lothiriel with a smile, she said, "It is all right, Lothiriel. We will be happy here. I know we will. And Faralin likes this lady. You must not be too unhappy. We promised Eomer we would help you not to be."

"Eomer?" Lothiriel asked in puzzlement. "What does he have to do with this?" The children had all been fond of Eomer, and while she had missed Eomer's company, and had thought of him several times during her travels, she had not expected this pronouncement.

"He said you would be sad if someone took us, but that we should help you not be unhappy," Brenwen nonchalantly explained, as if it was perfectly obvious. Then her pragmatism broke and she was a little girl of seven again. Flinging herself into Lothiriel's arms, she hugged her tightly, "But I will miss you. Promise you will come visit!"

It was all Lothiriel could do not to completely lose her composure, and she struggled to bite back her tears as she dropped to her knees and fervently hugged the child in return. To her surprise, the woman reached out a hand and gripped her shoulder. "You come visit when you can, Miss. The girls'll enjoy it and you'll always be welcome here." Lothiriel nodded gratefully at the understanding look in her eyes, then pulled Faralin into a hug and kiss goodbye also, while Brenwen ran to fetch their belongings from the wagon.

The boys moved in close around Lothiriel as she made the final arrangements, and then slowly made her way back to the wagons. The spots where the girls had sat, flanking her, were now vacant, but after the driver had helped her in, Telcrovan hopped in and plopped down beside her. "All right if I ride with you?" he asked nervously, biting at his lower lip, and she gave him a grateful smile.

"I would enjoy the company. Thank you, Telcrovan." Before he could see the tears again forming in her eyes, she turned to stare out the back of the wagon, and waved goodbye to the girls who were energetically waving, though Faralin had once more tucked her thumb in her mouth and had tears sliding down her cheeks. Had not the woman stooped and gathered the child into her arms, then stood and waved with her, Lothiriel might well have bolted from the wagon and demanded the children leave with her.

No. This was the right thing, and best for her girls. She must let them go, however painful it was to her. A warm hand slipped into hers, and she glanced down to see Telcrovan's fingers twined with hers as his head came to rest against her shoulder.

Lothiriel drew a slow, steadying breath. She must be strong. Her girls were provided for, but there were still many yet who needed homes. She could not fall apart now.

xx

It was another two days before they found anyone even remotely interested in the children. Lothiriel had her reservations about the man before her, but no longer had Brenwen to be her gauge, so she had to judge more carefully on her own.

He looked over the children, and then pointed to Malathor and Belegadan. "Reckon I could take them two. Seem strong enough. I could get a bit of work out of 'em. Don't need three of 'em though. You can keep that little one."

Lothiriel bristled at this casual dismissal of Ergil, and even more so that the man seemed more interested in obtaining unpaid laborers than children. And it angered her immensely to see the terrified look on Ergil's face that he might be parted from his two friends. The older boys' jaws tightened, but they seemed resigned to doing whatever Lothiriel instructed, though it was clear they were not happy about this.

"No, I am sorry. The children cannot be split up. The boys are brothers and must be kept together." With that, Lothiriel turned quickly away, not giving the man an opportunity to argue as she ushered the children back to the wagons and got everyone in. The man had started to follow her and protest, but one of Eomer's Riders stepped purposefully in his path and gave him a discouraging look. He eyed the Rider closely, then turned on his heel and ambled back to his house as they drove away.

After supper that night, as Lothiriel was braiding her hair for bed, she was surprised to hear Malathor calling quietly at her tent flap. When she opened it, the trio of boys gazed determinedly at her and she waved them inside. Malathor, as the oldest, had apparently been elected spokesman for them, and he nervously cleared his throat before telling her, "Lothiriel…ummm, well, we do not want to be any trouble to you. If…iff'n you need for us to go to different families, we will." He looked miserably down at his feet, as did the other two, and Lothiriel could not restrain a proud smile.

"Well, I thank you for your cooperation in this matter. That is very thoughtful of you. However, I do not think it is in your best interest if I allow you to be separated. I will find someone who wants all three or I will return you to the orphanage where you can stay together. Brothers should not be separated," she told them firmly.

All three sets of eyes came up to look at her, almost fearful that she was jesting with them, but she smiled reassuringly. "Do not argue with me," she told them sternly. "I know what is best!" Ergil giggled then, and the others broke into wide grins as all three rushed forward to embrace Lothiriel in a big, simultaneous hug.

But despite everything, even though a farm family with two other boys had happily agreed to take all three boys, it still nearly broke Lothiriel's heart to part with them a few days later. The boys had tried mightily to be strong and not cry, but in the end they could not restrain the tears as they kissed her goodbye.

And so the caravan moved on with even fewer in number. They were now down to just three children, and it was not much farther before they reached Dol Amroth. They had been traveling nearly a fortnight, and the novelty of camping had worn off for the remaining children. The final stop would be Linhir, where Lothiriel hoped the last of the orphans could be placed, and then the drivers would return home with the wagons, back the way they had come. Lothiriel, the three Riders and any remaining children, would catch a boat to Dol Amroth before returning to Minas Tirith, also by boat.

TBC

NOTE: While Brenwen and Faralin are blood sisters, the boys are not related to one another. They are just close friends, and thus "brothers of the heart". Lothiriel knows that and that is what she is referring to when she says the "brothers" cannot be separated.

FYI: the Minas Tirith orphanage had 26 kids plus the 5 from Dol Amroth and Telcrovan – so a total of 32

Lothiriel took 10 kids, including her 5 and Telcrovan on her venture

Minas Tirith to Pelargir, down the South Road, 140 mi, 1.5 (fast) - 6 (normal) days

Pelargir to Linhir, by road, 100 mi, 1 (fast) - 4 (normal) days

not really feasible to go from Linhir to Dol Amroth by anything but boat – 2-3 days? (no direct road)

at least 13 days to make the trip? (I have them traveling about 15-16 days)


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N: This is a bit unusual, but there is a very short Epilogue of sorts that comes right after this chapter, and is below the words "The End", so don't forget to keep scrolling down to the bottom of the page or you'll miss it._**

**_Also, I don't know that many of you will care enough to go back and reread the entire story, but some of the comments made in the reviews have made me think I want to do some more tweaking, to flesh things out a tad bit more. I don't know yet how much it will be (probably not too terribly much), but if you check back in about a month I should have any changes reposted for you to see. It may not take that long, but I don't want to commit to anything sooner. – REPOST OF REVISED VERSION COMPLETE AS OF 9/7/07._**

**Chapter 6**

Linhir proved both a triumph and a disappointment. Two of the final three children were placed in homes; only Telcrovan remained unclaimed, and Lothiriel's heart ached for the boy. Though he tried to hide his dismay, it was evident the rejection hurt him.

Lothiriel had tried easing his pain by assuring him that she was pleased to continue to have his company, but it did not entirely remove the tormented look from the depth of his eyes. The boat ride to Dol Amroth did at least spark his interest a bit, and distract him from his woes, and for that she was grateful. Perhaps she would linger in Dol Amroth for a few days, and show him the city and the seashore before they returned north.

They rode into the palace plaza in the early morning to find a large gathering of riders. Imrahil and Eomer turned from their conversation, and broke into smiles at the sight of the new arrivals. Hurrying down the steps, Imrahil embraced his daughter. "I am pleased you arrived safely, dear girl! I see few orphans with you, so I must assume your venture went well." He glanced over to where Eomer was greeting Telcrovan and said more softly, "Only one left?"

"Yes," she murmured, "poor thing. It was hard for him to see the others taken and be left behind. I did not think about that possibility."

Eomer now had his arm around the boy's shoulder, and guided him over to join the father and daughter. To Lothiriel, he said, "It is good to see you. I did not think you were going to arrive before we left." He swallowed hard, then said, "You found good homes for them, then?"

"Yes," she answered huskily, trying to hold back the tears that wanted to come even now. She had the most peculiar desire for Eomer to take her into his embrace as he had that day at the orphanage when he consoled her. But what had seemed natural in the orphanage hallway, she could not deem appropriate out in public, particularly in the presence of her father and Eomer's men. Deflecting the thought, she glanced to the waiting riders, and added, "I did not intend to delay your departure."

"Not at all. An hour more will not make much difference. Besides, I have a matter I would discuss with you. If he is agreeable, I would take Telcrovan back to Rohan with me. I think he would like it there, and I would enjoy his company now that Eowyn is gone."

Lothiriel's heart seemed to have stopped beating in her chest, and Telcrovan was gaping at the king. "Truly?" he whispered at last.

"Truly," Eomer answered firmly, gripping his shoulder. "Will you come, if Lothiriel will allow it?"

His head bobbed in affirmation, for he was too choked up to speak. Then, seeming to remember that it hinged on Lothiriel's approval, Telcrovan cast a wary look at her for a decision.

Teasingly, and to control her own emotions, she crossed her arms and looked Eomer up and down. "You are able to provide adequately for this child, Sir? I plan to check on all my children to make sure they are not being mistreated or deprived," she warned.

Solemnly, Eomer considered this, then answered, "I believe I have sufficient means to see he is fed and clothed. I do not believe you will find anything objectionable in my household…except perhaps me." A glint lit his eyes then, and Lothiriel could not restrain a laugh. Oh how desperately she wanted to throw her arms around him and show her appreciation for his doing this, but that would be most improper.

"Very well, then, if Telcrovan wishes to endure your company, I will not attempt to dissuade him." Her voice cracked as she turned to the boy and added, "But I will miss him!"

He flung himself into her arms and the two clung tightly to one another for several minutes, before drawing back and wiping at their eyes. Looking at Eomer, she said, "If you are leaving within the hour, what must we do to prepare for this? I do not know that he has ever ridden a horse…"

"We have a pack horse he can ride upon, and the extra padding of bundles will help ease his discomfort until he gets used to sitting a saddle. When we get to Rohan, I will see he is properly trained for riding," Eomer gently advised.

Lothiriel nodded, her emotions raw. Sensing this, Eomer said, "Before we leave, it would be a shame if Telcrovan did not have the opportunity to walk on the beach and see the town briefly. Why do you not take him, and we will wait for you here? I will pack his belongings and make ready to add him to our party."

Again Lothiriel agreed and gestured down the hill for Telcrovan to accompany her. To her mild amusement, one of the Riders who had journeyed with them, trailed along behind also, apparently not yet content to relinquish his responsibility for them. The pair did not speak a great deal on their walk about Dol Amroth. While Telcrovan found the seashore interesting, his appreciation was dampened by the knowledge that he would soon be departing. Just before they turned back toward the palace on the hill, he caught Lothiriel's arm and stammered, "I…I am sorry to be leaving you alone!"

She smiled through her tears and pulled him into a hug. "Do not let it trouble you, dearest! Of all the children, I release you most readily, for I could not ask a better home for you than with Eomer. Be happy, my dear. I will try to come visit as soon as I can." He seemed easier with the decision after her words, and they linked arms to walk up the hill.

Once the Rohirrim had ridden away, with Telcrovan balanced uncertainly on the pack horse but waving frantically to Lothiriel, the woman gazed for a long time watching them grow smaller in the distance.

Her father's hand on her elbow drew her attention, and she turned to him, trying to muster a smile of reassurance that she would be all right. After a moment, he gave a chuckle. "Is this my daughter?" Imrahil asked teasingly. "Camping in tents by her own choosing. Brown from the sun. Weary from an honest day's toil in a worthy cause?"

"It is the daughter you should always have had," Lothiriel murmured ruefully, looking down at the ground.

He stepped in close and pressed a kiss to her forehead as his hands gripped her shoulders. As her eyes came up to meet his, he gazed intently at her and replied, "It is the daughter I should have _raised_, but did not. In the absence of your mother, I let my sister tamper with your sensibilities, and turn you into a silly ornament. Do not misunderstand, precious girl, I have always loved you dearly just as you were, but I see now how much more you could have been if I had acted differently in your upbringing. Your brothers and I overindulged you to compensate for the lack of a mother and our own inexperience. I confess my disservice to you, dearest one. I am so pleased you have turned out well despite my inadequacies. You alone may take credit for the fine woman you have become!" He enfolded her in his embrace, and the pair stood clinging to one another for quite some time.

xxxxx

The loss of ten children from the orphanage had greatly eased the strain on their resources, and with the advent of winter affording less appealing weather for spending time outdoors, Lothiriel directed more of her attention and energy to seeing the children properly schooled. Whatever else, she wanted them to be able to read and write, and the activity kept her mind from dwelling too long on how much she missed her children, and Eomer's company. Several of the children had asked about him, but she felt awkward writing to him. She had sent a letter to Telcrovan, trusting someone would read it to him if he could not read, but the winter weather made communication slow and it was some time before a reply had come. It was short, and she wasn't sure who had written it, but it assured her that he was well and enjoying Rohan.

Come the spring, she was able to persuade Faramir to petition the king for an escort to accompany her on a trip to check on the children she had placed with families the previous fall. She did not intend to assume they were being well cared for in these new homes, and if she found anything amiss, she would not hesitate to take the child back to the safety of the orphanage. King Elessar had empowered her to act thus if she deemed it necessary, but she was relieved to discover that all had settled in nicely, and were enjoying this home environment over the institutional nature of the orphanage.

It was a bittersweet reunion with her original five charges. The boys were happy and healthy, and thoroughly enjoyed being out in the sunshine and active. The discipline of farm work was good for them, and Lothiriel left them with no worries for their future.

She was nervous about seeing her girls again, but it thrilled her when Faralin came rushing out to greet her carriage, exclaiming excitedly, " 'Thiriel! 'Thiriel!" She almost wept at the sound of the little girl's voice, and later her mother said it had taken several months, but at long last the child was beginning to speak. She was still silent more often than not, and frequently confined her remarks to whispers with her sister, but gradually she was opening up.

Brenwen had hugged her fervently and insisted on knowing all the news from Minas Tirith and the other children, and clapped her hands with delight upon learning Telcrovan had gone to Rohan with Eomer. "That is wonderful!" she declared. "Eomer will take good care of him!"

It amused Lothiriel to see such a small girl acting so grown up, but Brenwen was mature beyond her years in many ways. Even so, she was yet a child at heart, and before Lothiriel left, she insisted on once more hearing a story about princesses and heroic knights.

As before, Lothiriel ended her trip with a visit to her family in Dol Amroth. This time, however, her father suggested she take some time off and travel with them to Rohan for a visit. He allowed as how she had been working very hard and deserved a break, and then, knowing it would sway her, reminded her she still needed to go and check on her final placement who resided there. She could think of many reasons why she should not go, but the thought of seeing Telcrovan again was too much inducement, and Lothiriel capitulated, sending word to the Matron of her plans.

The royal party departed a sennight later, making use of the newly opened Dimholt route to shorten the travel time. Lothiriel had never considered herself fearful of enclosed places, but she did not care for the oppressive atmosphere as they passed through the mountain, and she was relieved when they reached the sunshine once more.

This entry into Rohan was far different than her previous visit, and she was astonished by the beauty she seemed to have missed at that time. She could not think it hadn't existed then, so her only possible explanation was that she was seeing it with new eyes. The land had not changed, but she had. And after all she had witnessed of Eomer's interaction with the orphans, she had a much better opinion of the Rohirric people in general. She could not claim any such greatness of mind for her Gondorian kinsmen; indeed, they had been too wrapped up in their own comforts and amusements to spare much time worrying about a few orphaned children of common birth. Her snobbery had certainly been misplaced in the past.

Even the spring rains that drenched them for the two days prior to their arrival at Edoras could not dampen Lothiriel's enthusiasm for the place. She was eager to see Telcrovan; her visit would be unexpected as her father had not taken the trouble to send word on ahead that she would be joining the Dol Amroth party. To her surprise, she was nervous about seeing Eomer again. Here was where she had first made such a fool of herself to him, and it felt awkward to return suspecting what the people of Meduseld must think of her. At least in Eomer's case, she felt reasonably assured he had forgiven her her folly. Hopefully his people would do so as well.

The moment the carriage stopped, despite the still falling rain, Lothiriel bounded out and up the steps to Meduseld. Her father and Amrothos hurried along behind her, chuckling at her behavior. Eomer stood under the eaves of the roof, gazing at her with raised eyebrow. Her hair and clothes had quickly become sodden, but her face was flushed with excitement. At the sight of him, she grinned broadly, realizing she was as pleased to see him as she would be to see Telcrovan.

"Eomer! My lord!" she quickly corrected herself, remembering her proper manners, and giving a curtsy. "It is very good to see you! I…I hope you do not mind my accompanying my father on this visit."

His eyes twinkled in response, but keeping a solemn countenance, he shook his head. "Not at all, my lady. You did warn me you would be checking to make sure I provided an adequate home for Telcrovan!"

She laughed easily. "He is well, then?" she asked anxiously.

"He is very well, and, I believe, very happy. You will be pleased, I have no doubt," he reassured her, though he was glad to see there was no indication of relief on her face. Apparently she had not been overly worried he would fail the boy in some way.

"Come inside," Eomer invited as the rest of her family joined her. "I will see you settled in your rooms so you may dry out and get warm." He paused, then asked Lothiriel, "Shall I have them prepare a bath for you?"

She laughed, and held out her sodden clothes. "Am I not already wet enough to suit you?"

Eomer raised an amused eyebrow, but merely responded, "I did not want you to think me inhospitable. If you are satisfied with dry clothing, then I will not press more upon you."

She made a face at him, then turned to follow her father and brother, who were trailing behind the doorward toward their rooms. She did not see Eomer wandering along as well, a bemused expression on his face. Eomer stopped by the firepit in the center of the Hall, lost in thought, then turned to a passing servant and asked, "Do you know where Telcrovan is?"

"No, my lord, but I will find him for you," she offered, and he nodded approval to her.

It did not take long before the boy turned up. "You wished to see me?" he asked.

"Yes," Eomer grinned. "Our guests have arrived from Dol Amroth, but more came than expected. Will you help me entertain the addition to their party?"

For a moment, Telcrovan looked confused, but suddenly comprehension dawned. "Lothiriel? Lothiriel is here?" he demanded excitedly.

Eomer chuckled, and answered, "Yes, and –" Before he could finish the sentence, the door to the hallway opened and Lothiriel appeared. This was definitely not the creature who had graced their hall last summer. She had donned dry clothes, and combed out her wet hair, but had not bothered with any grooming beyond that little bit, intent only on seeing Telcrovan once more. Her eyes searched the room until they fell upon Eomer and the boy; then, grinning broadly, she hurried toward them.

Telcrovan ran to meet her, flinging himself into her arms and hugging her tightly. For several long moments, they simply stood holding one another. At last, Lothiriel pulled back and eyed the lad appraisingly. "You look wonderful, dearest! It is very good to see you again. Are you liking it here?"

He nodded fervently, "Yes! Very much! And Eomer is teaching me to ride and fight and everything!"

She laughed at his enthusiastic response. "Excellent! Tell me all!" She guided him over to one of the tables, and they seated themselves as the boy launched into his eager narrative, oblivious to all else. Choosing not to disturb them, Eomer departed to his study, a pleased grin on his own face.

xx

This visit from Dol Amroth was far different than the prior one had been. While Eomer had been aware that Lothiriel was changed, he had not entirely realized the extent of it. She was cooperative, friendly and undemanding. Eanswith, who had again been assigned to attend her, seemed almost in shock over the change.

The first night of Lothiriel's arrival, the girl had nervously presented herself, and asked what Lothiriel wished her to do. To her amazement, the casual response came, "Oh, I can manage on my own, dear, but would you be so kind as to braid my hair. I think it is dry now." And, so, Eanswith had done as she asked, but the girl hadn't stop commenting on the change to anyone who would listen. Eomer could not help but overhear some of the discussions, though it was not intentional, and he could not help but wonder what Eowyn's reaction would be to all this. Certainly he heartily approved of the woman his eyes now beheld. This was how he had always envisioned Imrahil's daughter would be, before he had met a different reality.

Neither was Lothiriel content to sit idly around Meduseld. She claimed she missed the busyness of her days spent at the orphanage, and thus she longed for an occupation. At her request, he had allowed her to work in the garden behind Meduseld, and when Eomer was to take Imrahil out to see the herds, and choose some breeding stock to purchase, Lothiriel insisted on joining them so that Telcrovan could show off his newly developed riding skills to her. Eomer noted she still used a sidesaddle to ride upon herself, but he supposed that was to be expected since it was all she had ever known.

A sennight into their visit, Eomer invited Lothiriel to take a walk in the garden with him after supper, and show him her handiwork. She readily agreed, since she had been pleased with her refurbishing efforts. The garden had languished for many long years, and as yet no one at Meduseld had found time to do much with it. During this visit, Lothiriel had made it her pet project, and already it was greatly improved. They strolled along in the fading light as Lothiriel pointed out what she had already accomplished in pruning and weeding, and then told him of her next plans.

The twilight was beginning to make it too dark to see much else as Lothiriel turned to Eomer and asked, "Well, what do you think?"

"Mmmm, beautiful," he murmured, stepping unnervingly close to her, and causing her breath to hitch at his tone. Involuntarily she took a step back, but his arm slid around her waist, preventing her escape and causing her pulse to quicken.

"E…Eomer," she stammered, wide-eyed, "wh…what are you doing?"

He bent and grazed his lips over hers before whispering, "Just admiring the view, that is all. Do you mind?"

Now his lips had pressed themselves to her forehead, and then to her eyelids, which had fluttered shut as she relished the sensations he was causing in her. Never before in her life had a man taken such liberties with her. Indeed, in the past, she had made it a point to avoid the sort of man who would be so forward with her, or any other woman. Had any attempted such a thing as this, she would have been angry and offended, but at the moment she couldn't seem to recall why exactly she'd felt that way, or found such behavior so objectionable. Actually, this was quite…pleasant.

His arms had snugged her close while his warm lips were working their magic in caressing her face, and she was finding it very difficult to think clearly. Finally, a random thought trickled through, and she commented breathlessly, "I thought you did not like me!"

She felt his mouth twitch into a grin as he continued his ministrations. "That was in August. This is April! Now I find that I _like_ you very much." Then, teasingly, he growled low in her ear, "But you did not like me either. Perhaps you wish me to stop?"

His lips pressed to the pulse point below her ear, and she let out a squeak. "No," she forced out with an effort, "I do not believe that I wish that!" Unbidden, her hands slid up his arms to entangle in his hair, and he felt her capitulation.

"Excellent!" he whispered. Then, just before he claimed her mouth fully, he added, "We have an orphanage in Edoras, also, you know..."

THE END

5/25/07 – 8/24/07

**_Epilogue _**

Amrothos entered Eomer's study with a bemused expression on his face. Without looking up from the book he was reading, Imrahil asked, "Did you find your sister?"

Sprawling in a chair, Amrothos chuckled. "Yes. She and Eomer are out in the garden – kissing!"

Imrahil stuck a finger in his book to save his place, as he closed it and gave his full attention to his youngest son. "Indeed! Then I suppose Brenwen was correct!"

"Brenwen?" Amrothos asked, puzzled by the remark.

His father nodded. "At Faramir's wedding, while I was dancing with Brenwen, she informed me that Eomer and Lothiriel were falling in love and would soon marry as well. When I asked how she knew such a thing, she claimed she could see the love in Eomer's eyes, and that Lothiriel was not there yet, but was beginning to know it also."

Amrothos snickered. "I see! Well, then I would agree that she _was_ correct. I would never have imagined such a thing, but they _have_ been friendlier toward one another of late."

"By the way, do I need to storm out to the garden and demand Eomer marry my daughter, as a result of his unseemly behavior toward her?" Imrahil asked mildly, not looking especially concerned about the matter.

Amrothos gave a snort. "Hardly! I think you shall be hard pressed to prevent their marrying, and Lothiriel did not seem to be finding his behavior particularly objectionable, last I saw!"

"Excellent!" Imrahil said with a smile and reopened his book. "I will expect them to find me no later than tomorrow then, to discuss the details."

**_Finis _**


	7. Perpetuity

_**A/N: Happened to reread "Journey" the other day and then this came to mind. I didn't really know where it was going at the outset, but I'm rather pleased with how it turned out.**_

_**I considered posting this on its own, but decided it might be better attached to the main story and kept together.**_

**Perpetuity**

How had it come to this? She did not believe she could truly put her finger on a single moment where this course became inevitable; rather it had been an accumulation of tiny things over a period of time. She was cold and miserable, so she mistakenly challenged him. He was tired and beleaguered, so he did not humor her in his response. Thus her life had taken a turn, and she could not honestly think that was a bad thing.

Marvelous experiences had come to her ever since that moment, and she had found herself to be far more capable and worthwhile than she ever imagined. Her worth before had hinged on who she was and her bloodline; now it keyed upon what she was, what she said and did, and how she acted. Before, she had looked inward, and concerned herself with personal comfort and amusement, but now her eyes inexorably noticed the needy around her. Something deep inside would no longer allow her to turn a blind eye and walk away, and though she could not change the world, she could make a difference in the small portion of it that she occupied.

And now the new person that she had become was being given the opportunity to do even more – as the queen of Rohan. Had anyone suggested, upon her first acquaintance with Eomer King, that she would end up his wife, she would have scathingly disabused them of such a notion. He appealed to her no more than she did to him, and both had been delighted to part company after the funeral of his uncle. But he had planted seeds in her thoughts, and along with the changes she made in her life, she discovered a new appreciation for the man who had sparked her introspection. As she had slowly evolved, it had seemed unlikely he would be willing to overlook the past and reevaluate her quality, but he had readily done so.

Still, she had not been prepared to love him, particularly not so passionately as it turned out she did. She had found comfort in his embrace, but yet thought him only a friend. Not until he startled her with a kiss, after they had been separated for months, did her feelings burst forth into full flame, causing her to realize the depth of her emotions. It seemed he had come to it quicker than she, but she did not allow that tardiness to impede her response. No matter that he was a king; no matter that he was a great warrior. The only item of consequence was the love burning inside her, and which clearly matched his own. He was a man, and she a woman – what could be more simple than that. That society considered them a perfect pairing was of no import.

So, on this day of days, she made her way to the Golden Hall on the arm of her father. He was beaming with joy at this course of events, but his own expression was a pale reflection of hers. Had any other bride ever been more radiant?

Eomer stood from his seat upon his throne as she entered the Hall, and all eyes turned to gaze admiringly upon her, but her eyes saw only one. Him! Her breath caught in her throat at the wondrousness of it all, but she forced herself to relax and evenly draw in air to calm herself. A few more steps and she would be at his side; a few more moments and she would belong to him; a few more hours and they would begin their life together.

What a wonderful journey her life was proving to be!

THE END

1/3/08


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